


Going Down In Dreamland

by thiamislife_thiamislove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 1920's, Agent Dunbar, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse, Alternate Universe - Noir, Army Theo, Boats, Bootlegger Theo, Cute Suits, Death, Guns, M/M, Miami, Prohibition, Slow Burn, Thiam, Violent, War, World War I, super slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-02-17 09:07:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thiamislife_thiamislove/pseuds/thiamislife_thiamislove
Summary: Theodore Raeken is a rum-runner out for revenge in 1920's Miami. William Dunbar is a federal agent sent to stop him. But it's hard to stop crime when it's saving your life and looks so good in a suit.1920's Thiam AU





	1. Welcome To Miami

**Author's Note:**

> Poor, poor Theo! I actually cried writing his backstory in this chapter. I love this prompt (thank you @lovelylittlegrim !), but wow did it turn out to be a lot more violent than I expected.

Chapter 1: Welcome to Miami

 

“Dunbar!” a middle aged man called out down the office corridor in a rough Brooklyn accent

Liam quickly made his way down the hall and into the office of the Director. Twenty years old, fresh-faced, and newly out of the academy; William Eugene Dunbar had graduated top of his class and was recently assigned to the Prohibition Enforcement division within the Department of Justice. Quickly adjusting his tie and shirt collar, he stepped into the office.

“You wanted to see me sir?” he asked, doing his best not to be intimidated by the man seated across from him. Cigar smoke clung heavy to the ceiling of the room, and a brushed metal desk fan hummed, trying its best to dispel the oppressive, muggy heat that marked the summer season in the nation’s capital.

The man at the desk spun his swivel chair around to face the young agent. He set the manila file folder he had been looking through on top of his desk, leaving it open to a page with the younger man’s credentials. “Says here you graduated top of your class, son?” he said

“Yes sir!” Liam replied with as much pride as such an accomplishment entitled him to. It was no small feat to get to this point. In addition to completing rigorous coursework on the ins and outs of criminal justice; he also had to make it through an intense field training course, which involved everything from scaling walls, to countless hours spent at the shooting range (all while wearing a suit no less). Despite being the shortest member of his graduating class, he was easily the most agile and possessed an unrivaled determination (and also temper) that made it so that he never failed to track down his assigned target; earning him the nickname of “the little wolf” from his classmates. The hardest part by far was the final test. The trick of it was that during the final trial, the agent-in-training wouldn’t know that it was just a test. For all intents and purposes it was real. Liam had passed with flying colors, though he only realized it was a test when he went to fire his gun and found it was filled with blanks. After that day, William Eugene Dunbar was officially one of the mythic “untouchables”. His family back home was wealthy enough that money was no issue, and he had no outstanding debts, meaning he wouldn’t be susceptible to bribes. His older brother had served in the Army during the War, and according to many, died a hero. At one point in the training they even hired several impossibly beautiful women to try and seduce the young man into giving up secrets/intelligence, but Liam didn’t even bat an eye.

But now here he stood, in the office of renowned Department of Justice Director Noah Stilinski, ready for his first official assignment.

The older man paused for a few minutes before finally breaking the tense silence. “I’m sending you to Miami”

“Florida?” Liam asked confused, “What about Chicago?”

“Miami is the number one port through which almost all of the illicit alcohol, specifically rum, flows into this country” Director Stilinski started to explain, “We can shut down a thousand of the worst speakeasies on the South Side, and within a week there will be two thousand to take their place. The only way to make any real difference is to target their supply” he finished

Liam just nodded in understanding. “So what’s the plan?”

The Director handed the young man a folder with details of the operation, as well as two train tickets straight to Miami. “I’m sending you undercover to infiltrate the largest bootlegging operation on the entire eastern seaboard. The man you see in the first picture is Gerard Argent, the rum king of Miami. He practically runs the entire town, but lately there has been a sharp increase in violence between a few rival gangs trying to get a cut of his business.”

Liam looked into his folder at the picture of the so-called “Rum-King-of-Miami”. He looked far too old to be running any sort of dangerous organized crime ring. The picture before him was of a man with white hair, sunken eyes, saggy jowls, and a black pinstripe suit, with matching hat.

“We have a pretty good idea how he gets his product and where his supply lines run through. But- ”

“But if we take him down, the rival gangs will just take his place” Liam finished

“Exactly!” Director Stilinski confirmed. “I need you to find out how the other major players are getting their product in, and past Gerard.”

“How will I know where to look?” Liam asked

“In the second photo you will see Gerard’s biggest competitor, the Hale gang. From what we can tell they run most of their business out of a club called ‘The Beacon’. That would be a good place to start” the older man advised

Liam nodded. “Is that all sir?”

“One more thing” the Director added, “While you will be undercover; I’m sending Agent Talbot along with you. As this is your first official mission, he will act as your handler.”

Liam tried his best to suppress a groan. While he and the other agent had a decent working rapport, Liam really didn’t like how he was always so smug and sure of himself. This was going to be a long train ride.

 

\-------

“Raeken, where the hell is that shipment?!” an older irritated voice called out from the secret loading dock entrance to the basement of the dingy looking establishment. “I’m pulling it off the truck now!” he called back.

Theo didn’t _intend_ on getting into bootlegging; he just sort of fell into it after he got back from the War. The work was steady, and didn’t leave much time for sleeping; something he tried his best to avoid if at all possible these days on account of the unrelenting nightmares.

Lieutenant Theodore Karl Raeken had fought in almost every major American operation on the Western Front throughout 1918. Despite being part of an Army reconnaissance unit, during the Battle of Belleau Wood he had managed to almost single handedly wipe out an entire German unit; capturing their headquarters along with invaluable intelligence and earning himself a Medal of Honor (which he never accepted). The men in his unit that survived started to call him “the Wolf of Belleau Wood”, as only a wolf could fight with such ruthless ferocity. Wolf or not, images of the War were one of two recurring nightmares that plagued Theo. Whenever he closed his eyes he would see the twisted, pained faces of the men he had killed, he could feel their blood splatter on his uniform as he plunged his bayonet into the men in front of him before twisting the blade mercilessly. There were even times he swore he caught a whiff of mustard gas; the familiar spicy, sulfuric odor that slowly burned his throat and nose, causing him to wake up coughing and gasping for air. They were just dreams he tried to tell himself over and over. He wasn’t sure which of the two were worse; the dreams about the war, or the dreams about what happened to his poor sister.

He much preferred his current job. After he got back to the U.S., he acquired a small boat that he used to pick up shipments out on many of the small, forgettable islands that made up the most of the Florida Keys. He was masterful at dodging Coast Guard patrols and police blockades alike, earning quite the name for himself for his quick thinking and clever tactics. In a few short years he had gone from “the Wolf of Belleau Wood” to being “the Coyote of the Caribbean”.

Stopping briefly to wipe the seat from his brow with his handkerchief, Theo finished unloading the crates containing the last of the illicit booze into the storage area. A glance down at his wristwatch told him it was almost 3AM. “That’s the last of it” he said looking over to the older man across the entrance. He was taller than Theo, he had dark hair, and a perpetual 5 o’clock shadow. He reached into the breast pocket of his dark charcoal-grey suit jacket and withdrew a small wad of cash before walking over to the younger man.

“Here” the man Theo recognized as the younger Hale said as he handed the money to him “That should be all for tonight”

Theo nodded, grabbing his suit jacket from the hook near the door and stuffing the cash into his pocket. “Get some sleep, got a big shipment coming in later this week” the man advised. Theo gave a curt nod and started to make his way back home.

\-------

Agent Talbot and Agent Dunbar made their way off of the train and into the main terminal in downtown Miami. It was almost dawn by the time they got checked into their hotel room. It wasn’t anything fancy, the Department was always frugal, almost to a fault; two beds, a small table with a few chairs, a single shower, a telephone, a table lamp, and a single window overlooking the street below. Both men pretty much collapsed into their respective beds, exhausted from the long journey. Liam set and wound his alarm clock. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

 

\-------

Theo carefully made his way down the dock and climbed aboard his “home”. Home for the young man was his pride and joy, his sailboat. On the outside it didn’t look like anything too special, 80 feet long, a simple mast and sail, a wheel to control the rudder, and a basic cabin. There was also some fishing gear stored on the deck, and just below the bow, the name of the ship was carefully painted: the _Chimera_. What the casual observer _couldn’t_ see were the twin 400hp engines Theo had salvaged from a couple of decommissioned Army planes. They also couldn’t see the secret below deck storage compartments that ran almost the entire length of the ship.

Theo ducked his head as he climbed down into the cabin, and made his way to the back compartment where his bunk was. He took the money out his pocket and shoved it in a can he kept in his dresser. Taking off his jacket he carefully withdrew the two wax envelopes he always kept with him, before setting them on the nightstand. He then proceeded to finish undressing; shoes, suit coat, tie, suspenders, white dress shirt. Before removing his dress pants he made sure to withdraw his service pistol, and placed it on the nightstand next to the wax envelopes.

 Laying on his back in the bunk Theo stared blankly above him. When sleep finally came, he wondered what it would bring tonight. Would it be Tara? Or would he be back in the trenches? Sitting up he reached under his nightstand and withdrew a handful of pills from a container along with a bottle. He quickly swallowed the pills, chasing them with a swig of bourbon; desperate for anything that might bring relief to the constant terror of his dreams and haunted memories.

As he slowly drifted off him mind began to replay that terrible night. It was December of 1918, he had just gotten off the train at the station, eager to be home again and see his family that he had missed so much. The terminal was completely decked out with garland and red ribbons for Christmas, and all about there were soldiers reuniting with their families. Theo stood there in his full dress service uniform and looked out through the crowd, searching for the faces of his mother, father, and older sister; but they were nowhere to be seen.

So he took a seat on one of the benches and waited. More trains came and went, more people got off to be met with more happy reunions; still his family was nowhere to be seen. It had been several hours, “maybe they somehow got the wrong arrival time” Theo thought to himself. He shook his head, there was no way his sister would let that happen; Tara practically worshipped her younger brother, and the two were as close as two siblings could possibly be. By now the sun had set; Theo got up and decided he would just take a taxi.

It was a short drive from the train station to the Raeken house. Theo handed the driver the fare and started to walk up the sidewalk, duffel bag slung over his shoulder containing his belongings as well as a souvenir he had picked for Tara when he was in Paris.

When he got up to the door he immediately noticed something was wrong; it was opened just a crack, and there were no lights on inside. Looking around Theo noticed that the front window had been bashed in, glass shards scattered everywhere. He quickly dropped his bag and made his way inside.

“Mom? Dad? Tara? I’m home!” he called out into the darkness, but there was no response.

He heard the sudden shuffle of feet across the floor. Making his way into the kitchen he saw what looked like a trail of blood. Theo started to panic as he followed after the trail. He froze when he saw the body of his father, face down on the floor of the dining room, surrounded by a dark crimson pool. He wasn’t breathing.

Theo’s face turned completely pale; he stood there in shock staring at the lifeless body of his father “D-D-Dad. . .. ?” he barely squeaked out.

He heard footsteps coming up behind him, but he was too frozen in disbelief to turn around. The sound of a shotgun being cocked echoed through the room. He slowly turned on his heel to face where the sound of this threat was coming from.

All of a sudden he heard his name being called out as a body collided with his, seemingly having sprung from hiding under the dining room table. “Theo NO!!” Tara shouted as she tackled her brother, trying to keep him out of the line of fire from their assailant.

BOOM

Theo felt the weight of his sister as the two fell to the floor. He smelled the burning scent of gunpowder, he heard the blast of the weapon, heard shells ejecting on the ground, followed by the sound of boots making their way out of the house. His chest felt hot, and he couldn’t figure out why. Why was he wet? Why was there a stinging pain? Why wasn’t Tara moving?

Theo quickly fell unconscious from the severe blood loss. He would have died that night, had it not been for his taxi driver. Theo had apparently left his hat in the back seat, and when the driver realized this he turned the taxi around and brought it back to front door of the house that he had dropped the young soldier off at. Seeing the open door, the man quickly stumbled upon the murder scene. Grabbing the phone on the counter, he quickly called for an ambulance.

It took three days before Theo regained consciousness. The doctors explained that the shotgun round shattered when it hit Tara’s sternum, slowing it down when it eventually entered his body and saving his life from what would otherwise have been a fatal shot. They explained that they removed as much of the metal from his chest as they could, but there was one piece in his heart they couldn’t remove without cutting into his aorta. The only thing that kept the bullet fragment from piercing his heart, was a small piece of tissue from Tara’s heart that had traveled with the bullet upon exiting his sister. The doctors were surprised, but it appeared that the heart tissue had grafted itself onto his. It was all he had left of his sister.

Theo later found out that his mother had fallen ill to the Spanish Flu, and his father had gone into debt trying to pay for her treatment. Out of options and with nowhere else to go, he had turned to the local mob boss for a loan. She had died a few months later. Theo’s dad was devastated. He did his best to try to keep things together, to be strong for his daughter; but inside he was broken. With the money he had borrowed from the Argents, he was able to pay off the debt to the hospital and the banks; but this still left him owing a considerable sum to the crime lords. Every week he would tell them how he just needed a little more time, and that he would pay them back in full. Gerard Argent however was not a patient man. Tired of waiting, he had decided to make an example of the Raeken patriarch.

In a roundabout way, that was how Theo came to work for the Hales. Killing Gerard would have been simple for him; it also would have been letting the older man off far too easy. Theo wasn’t just out for blood. He wanted vengeance. He wanted to watch as everything Gerard Argent had ever cared about was taken away from him. He wanted to visit upon Gerard the same cruel suffering that he had to endure. Killing him wouldn’t bring back his family. . .wouldn’t bring back Tara. . . but making him suffer, that would be _right_. After all, Theo thought, real pain isn’t physical; real pain is emotional pain, the kind of pain that lasts. The kind of pain that twists like a knife in your chest and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Theo’s lips curled up in a sadistic grin at the thought of what he wanted to do to Gerard Argent.

The young man couldn’t even look at his family home when he was discharged from the hospital. Instead he sold it, and took all his money and bought the boat. He found himself in The Beacon one night, trying to drown his sorrows and chase away his memories. Theo didn’t remember a lot of what happened; for some reason there was a fight, a larger man had pulled a knife, and before he knew it Theo had the man pinned on the ground with the knife pressing into his back. A man walked up to him and put his hand on his shoulder, helping him up as they escorted the would-be knife fighter outside. “You’re pretty good in a fight” he complimented

“Yeah, I get by” Theo brushed himself off

“Could use someone with your ‘skillset’ if you’re looking for work?” the man offered

“I’ll think about it” Theo replied

“Name’s Derek” the man added

“Theo” he replied

 “Meet me back here tomorrow if you’re interested. We can talk some more, and then I can introduce you to my uncle Peter.”

Theo looked over before turning and walking away. That was a few years ago. When Theo showed up to meet the elder Hale and learn the details of their “business”; all he needed to hear was that someone was trying to take something away from Gerard. The younger man would smuggle booze shipments into the city that the Hale’s distributors would leave in caches on small islands. Theo would also be responsible for moving the shipments from the dock, to the storeroom in The Beacon; for which Peter let him use his dark blue Ford Model T truck for.

\-------

It was evening the following day and Agent Dunbar had decided to get to work. Agent Talbot was out running down some leads on the other side of town, so Liam decided he would check out The Beacon and see if he could find out any more about Gerard’s new competition. He loosened his necktie a little bit, leaving the top button of his dress shirt unfastened. He was almost out the door of his hotel room before realizing that he still had his badge and gun on him. Walking back over to the tiny dresser he placed the two items in the top drawer. He couldn’t chance getting searched and the gang members finding out he was with the feds.

The Beacon was a quick walk from their hotel, Liam found the place easily. From the street it looked like a pretty typical two-story building. The ground floor was where the lounge/restaurant was located, with the second floor appearing to be some sort of office or apartment. There were all kinds of people sitting about inside, an older man with a cane was at the piano towards the center of the room. Liam walked over to the bar at the back of the establishment and grabbed a seat.

The man behind the counter came up and asked for his drink. “I’d like your coldest beer” Liam tried

“You and me both, kid” the barman chuckled

Well this wasn’t going how he thought. “You have any scotch then?” Liam asked a second time

“Nope” the barman replied

“Don’t you have _anything_ to drink?” Liam asked confused.

“Not since they passed that damned 18th Amendment. Dry as a bone.” the man behind the counter replied, “let me know if you think of anything we _do_ serve” he added before walking away.

Maybe he had the wrong place? But that couldn’t be, the address was right, and this was the only “Beacon” in the entire city.

Theo looked up from his table to see the young man desperately trying to get the barman to give him a drink. “Poor kid” he thought to himself chuckling. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have paid any mind to the situation, but Theo was in a good mood tonight, and the whole affair was pretty amusing.

He got up from his spot and walked over towards the bar, before grabbing a stool next to the sharply dressed younger man. “Are you even old enough to drink?” he teased.

Liam looked up to see another man in a suit approach him, before taking a seat next to him. He looked a few years older than Liam, probably about the same age as his older brother would have been if he were still alive. The man next to him was wearing a dark navy blue suit, with a white dress shirt, and a dark green tie that seemed to bring out the most amazing shades of green from his eyes.

“I’m plenty old enough to drink!” Liam protested

Theo let out a slight laugh

Liam dropped his head and said in a hushed voice “I thought you could get drinks here, but the barman says they don’t sell alcohol?” he asked Theo

Theo put his hand on Liam’s shoulder, “you can get drinks here, you just have to know the password” he whispered back

“Password?” Liam asked confused

“Jesus, is this your first time in a speakeasy kid?” Theo wondered aloud

Liam didn’t say anything

“There’s a door in the back that leads to the club in the basement. Knock three times, when you hear the door click tell the guy on the other side the password and he’ll let you in” Theo explained

“What’s the password?” Liam asked

“Gévaudan” Theo replied

“What kind of word is that?”

Theo shrugged “I didn’t come up with it”

Liam just sat there as Theo started to get climb off his stool and make his way over towards the door in the back. “You comin’ kid?” he asked, eyebrow cocked

Liam jumped off his chair and started to follow the older boy through the back.

Theo stopped walking for a second and cocked his head towards the front of the establishment. He swore he heard a tire squeal.

All of a sudden the quiet din of conversation and jazz music was broken by the RATA-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT of Thompson sub-machine gun pouring hot lead into the crowd, shattering the windows, and causing everyone to drop to the floor.

Acting completely on instinct, Theo grabbed the other boy that had started to follow him and dove behind the bar, seeking cover. Gerard was trying to send a message. Reaching for his shoulder-holster he pulled out his M1911 service pistol and fired off a few .45 rounds back out towards the source of the gunfire.

“Someone’s shooting at us!” Liam exclaimed

“Thanks, I hadn’t noticed!” Theo replied back, voice full of sarcasm. He fired a few more rounds towards the window.

“I’m Liam” the younger boy volunteered

“What?” Theo asked unexpectedly, ducking as more bullets whizzed by

“My name” Liam clarified

“Is that short for something?” Theo asked, in-between the RATA-TAT-TAT-TAT coming in through the window

“William” Liam explained

“Why not go by Will?” Theo replied

“The last person that called me Will ended up with a broken nose” Liam yelled back

“Good to know!” Theo noted “Name’s Theodore, but call me Theo” he added

“Is it always like this in here?” Liam shouted back over the gunfire

“Welcome to Miami, kid!” Theo said back with a slight laugh


	2. Murder and Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Theo make it out of the gunfight. Agent Talbot makes a discovery.

Chapter 2: Murder and Memories

 

Theo ducked back down behind the bar counter as more bullets whizzed past his head. The sound of a drum magazine falling to the ground gave him enough of a pause to pop up and return a few shots, before diving back to his cover behind the counter. The two of them waited for the next wave of bullets, but nothing came. They kept waiting. Silence. Liam looked over to Theo, “They stopped shooting” he said with a sigh of relief.

“Seems like it” Theo replied, though not entirely convinced it was over. “They could just be reloading” he added.

 

For his part, Theo had done rather well keeping his calm during the shoot-out. He started to stand up and look over the bar counter when all of sudden he heard the loud BANG of a car back-firing. Liam looked over and noticed the sudden look of panic that had spread over his face; Theo’s eyes had glossed over, like he was staring at something impossibly far away.

 

Theo shuddered, the sound that the car made was far too similar to a German grenade exploding. With that single noise, he suddenly he found himself back in the trenches; the smell of death filled his nostrils. Looking around, all he saw was mud and barbed wire; the constant fighting had long since removed anything possessing real colors, rendering the entire landscape as only varying shades of sepia. 

 

Once the gunfire had ceased, Derek Hale made his way up from the club room in the basement to inspect the damage. Glancing behind the bar, he saw Theo completely frozen and a younger man staring at him in confusion.

“What’s wrong with him?” Liam asked

“I think he’s having an episode” Derek said calmly

“How do we stop it? Can’t we just wake him up or something?” Liam asked again

“It doesn’t work like that, he has to find his own way out” the older man explained, Liam looked at him in disbelief.

“Raeken! Snap out of it you shell-shocked fuck!” Derek shouted at Theo as he walked up to him. Theo didn’t even react.

“See? Nothing” he demonstrated while waving a hand in front of Theo’s face.

 

Liam decided to try for himself. Reaching out he placed a hand on Theo’s shoulder and gave a light squeeze. Almost immediately Theo drew in a quick breath and turned his head to face the other guy next to him; his gaze cleared and it seemed as though he was looking at Liam for the first time. There was something familiar about that touch, he caught the trace of a scent that flooded him with memories; and then there were those impossibly deep blue eyes staring back at him, eyes like he had only seen once before. “Corporal?” Theo said in disbelief, as he looked into Liam.

 

The younger man scrunched up his nose as a confused expression came over his face, “What?” Liam asked

 

Theo grabbed for his breast pocket, feeling the two wax envelopes inside, he suddenly remembered where he was. “sorry, thought you were someone else for a second” he confessed

 

“You alright?” Derek asked, extending a hand to help him up. Theo waved off the help, and got to his feet.

“I’m fine” was all he muttered

“You sure?” Liam asked, still not quite sure what he just witnessed

“I said I’m fine” Theo snarled back

 

Just as Theo had gotten to his feet, Peter Hale emerged from the stairs that led to the 2nd floor office/apartment.

Wearing a full three-piece, loose fitting, light grey suit, with black Italian leather shoes, and a light blue tie; he definitely looked the part of a well to do “businessman” Liam thought to himself.

The older Hale made a frown and turned to face his nephew. “Why are there bullet holes in my walls?” he asked, somewhat rhetorically

“Seems like Gerard wanted to send his regards” Derek stated plainly

“Fucking Argents and their fancy toys! Do you know how much it’s going to cost to fix all this up?!” Peter ranted gesturing around him. Derek just shrugged.

 

“Won’t the police catch the people that did the shooting?” Liam asked

“Ha, that’s a good one kid! Raeken, your friend there is quite the comedian” Peter chuckled

Theo started to say something about how he wasn’t his friend, but Peter cut him off.

Seeing the confused look on Liam’s face, the older Hale started again “There isn’t a cop in this city that isn’t on the Argent payroll. Gerard practically owns the whole town!” he explained. “Cops will show up, conduct an ‘investigation’ and then nothing happens. It’s the prohi’s I’m more concerned about” he added

 

“Prohis?” Liam asked again

“Prohibition agents” Theo clarified

“Revenues, Feds, G-Men” Derek echoed

“Pains in my ass is more like it” Peter added, “incompetent dog catchers that can’t tell the difference between their own ass and a hole in the ground. A big shooting like this is sure to draw some kind of unwanted attention”

Derek nodded at the last comment by his uncle

 

“Raeken; get the crates of booze you unloaded the other day back on the truck. Can’t risk having the place searched” Peter ordered. Theo nodded and started to head towards the back. “You too kid!” Peter barked pointing at Liam.

Liam started to protest, but the older man just threw a few wrinkled up dollars at him and muttered something about “don’t slack off” before walking towards the front to await the arrival of the police.

 

Liam shoved the cash inside the front right pocket in his dress pants. He hadn’t thought that infiltrating the Hale gang would be _this_ easy. The younger man walked out the back, following Theo, and began to help him load the crates full of liquor into the back of the truck.

 

\-------

It was just before midnight, a light fog was rolling in from the sea causing the light from the headlamps on the idling cars to cast luminescent beams across the road. Gerard Argent ran Miami. He had his fingers in almost everything, from the cops, to the mayor’s office, to the newspapers; hell, he even had the governor in his pocket. When it came to business in Miami, if you could drink it, bet on it, or sleep with it; then there was a good chance it was owned by an Argent.

 

Closing the door to the black Rolls-Royce Phantom, Gerard Argent stepped out into the foggy night, before returning his fedora to his head. “How many bottles did we take in?” he inquired to the other men standing around the scene, his jowls quivering back and forth as the words slipped past his cold lips. There were six other men, all wearing long coats, and carrying shotguns, barrels pointed towards the ground. In the light of the headlamps from Gerard’s car, he was able to make out five bloodied bodies strewn about on the ground, all lying near to the massive Ford truck that was swerved into the center of the road. They were barely a mile outside of the city limits.

“300 bottles of single malt Scotch” came the reply from Christopher Argent, “and . . .” he trailed off

“And what?” Gerard asked

“There were two men in the back when we opened the truck. They’re unarmed, what do you want us to do with them?” he revealed, somewhat uneasy.

“Kill them all!” Gerard roared with a cackle at the end

“But wouldn’t it send a message if we-” his son tried

“Nobody tries to move in on _my_ territory! You don’t cross an _Argent_ and live to tell about it!” he interrupted, “there’s your fracking message” he finished

 

Christopher Argent nodded, and motioned with two fingers to the men at his side. They grabbed the two men they had found in the truck, removed their gags, and fired into the back of them at point blank range. Gerard looked on in contentment as he listened to the bodies drop to the side of the road. “Get back to town and phone it in to the captain. Best we keep this as clean-cut as possible” the older man ordered.

Gerard climbed back into his car, as the other men cleaned up the scene. The bodies were left where they fell in the road; the other Argent men fished the keys to the truck from their pockets and headed back to the warehouse with their newfound goods. This had been a successful night.

 

\-------

Agent Brett Talbot paced back and forth impatiently inside the police station. All of his leads earlier in the day had come up empty, so he had decided that stalking the police station might turn up something. Returning to the chair he had claimed in the waiting area, he sat down crossing one leg, and picked up the newspaper he had read at least a dozen times through now.

 

His piercing green eyes tracked every person that walked past him, over the top of his paper; like a cat waiting to pounce. Suddenly he heard a commotion as officers started running outside. He was almost about to follow them, when he heard a phone going off in the captain’s office.

 

Moving silently towards the door he overheard a few lines from the captain’s side of the conversation.

“You said seven bodies?”

“Did your men already clear out the scene?”

“I’ll head over right away”

Agent Talbot heard the phone receiver click, indicating the call had ended; he quickly ducked into a nearby supply closet to avoid the police captain finding out about his eavesdropping.  

 

He waited until he heard the quickened pace of the other man walking past his hiding place, before carefully emerging. Walking towards the captain’s office, he noticed that the door hadn’t closed all the way; it open _just_ enough so that the bolt didn’t go through, leaving it ripe for snooping. Brett snuck inside, and drew the blinds on the office window that looked out into the station. Making his way to the captain’s desk, he saw the notepad next to the telephone. It seemed the captain was prone using a heavy hand when writing.

 

Brett grabbed a pencil from the desk, and quickly shaded over the indentations that had been left on the notepad; the quick sketch revealing the location he had been talking about on the phone. Shoving the piece of paper into his pants pocket, he hurried out of the station (making sure to close the office door behind him).

 

This seemed like something worth following up on.

\-------

 

 

Liam finished packing the last of the crates into the back of the truck; he rested briefly, using his handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“Think you’re all good to call it a night kid” Theo called out from the other side of the truck, as he observed the final crate and been successfully loaded onto the vehicle.

 “What happens to it now?” the younger man asked

“We’re gonna let it sit with Deaton until everything cools down. He’s got more than enough space to store all this” Theo replied

“Deaton?”

“Yeah, he’s our mixer”

“Mixer?” Liam asked again confused

“You really don’t know much about this business, do you?” Theo sighed. “A good mixer is one of the most important components of any operation. You spend all this effort getting a few bottles of booze in, you have to find ‘creative’ ways to maximize the return on your investment, you follow?” He started to explain. Liam nodded

“Deaton can take 10 bottles of rum, and turn them into 100. Water down the contents with some neutral spirits, add a dash of caramel color and nobody knows the difference.” He finished. Liam nodded again in understanding.

“Hey, thanks for the help tonight kid! You know, there’s a special shipment coming in a few days from now; could really use an extra set of hands if you’re looking for some more work?” Theo added.

“Thanks, I’ll think about” Liam responded

Theo nodded and looked over to him again, “good luck!”

“Yeah, you too!” Liam replied before putting his suit jacket back on and heading towards the exit.

 

\-------

 

 

Brett walked into the scene before him, after getting out of his car. He looked over to see a few police officers and the captain standing around about a half-dozen bloodied bodies strewn over the road.

 

He made his way up to the corpses before one of the cops stepped in front of him and gave him a light shove back, “Sir, this is a crime scene; I’m going to have to ask you to turn around and go back the way you came” he barked.

 

Brett pulled his badge from the pocket in his trench-coat, “Agent Brett Talbot, Prohibition Enforcement Office, Department of Justice” he stated before withdrawing his badge from the police officer’s face. He continued walking around towards the bodies before the police captain approached him.

 

“This a murder-robbery scene, not a bootlegging operation Agent; my men have jurisdiction here” the captain proclaimed

“Captain, I am a federal agent charged with the enforcement of Prohibition. My jurisdiction is anything dealing with violations of the Volstead Act, as well as any relating violence and criminal activity resulting from the illicit manufacture, consumption, and transportation of alcohol” Agent Talbot asserted.

 

“Well this here has nothing to involve you or your Volstead Act. Simple robbery gone wrong. Open and shut.” The Captain replied

 

“You expect me to believe that seven men, all wearing hundred dollar suits, walked hours outside of town into the middle of the night, only to be killed by ‘robbers’ that didn’t take their valuables?” he asked, pointing to the gold pocket-watch on one of the bodies. “There are multiple sets of tire-tracks, and this is a known route for transporting alcohol” he added

 

“See whatever you like. Police report is already written; it’s a failed robbery. Just waiting on the coroner to come pick up the bodies” the captain snarled back.

 

Agent Talbot shook his head as he walked back to his car.

 

 

 

\-------

 

 

 

Theo had finished storing the booze laden truck in Deaton’s warehouse, and had finally made his way back to the marina where the _Chimera_ was docked. Climbing down into the bunkroom, he continued his nightly ritual; setting the envelopes on his bedside table, next to his pistol as he finished undressing.

Laying on his back he started to drift off to sleep; this had been a long day, maybe tonight he could get by without the pills.

 

Sleep did come eventually for Theo. This time he found himself back in France. Back in the trenches. But there was no roar of gunfire, no thundering artillery blasts or screams of agony. It was spring of 1918, a bright sunny day. Theo remembered this day well.

Lieutenant Theodore Raeken was walking down the line in the trench, reviewing his men. He had gotten to the end when he saw another boy, about his age, so engrossed in whatever he was writing in a small notebook, that he hadn’t noticed the officer approach.

 

Lt. Raeken waited, giving the young soldier a second chance to come out of his obliviousness. It didn’t work. Theo pulled out his whistle and blew it loudly right next to the other boy. The young man practically jumped, dropping his pencil and looking up at the lieutenant in shock. “Sir?” he managed to get out while getting to his feet and giving a sloppy salute.

Theo looked down at the boy in front of him. He seemed to be about the same age as he was, a little shorter though. He had cleanly trimmed brown hair, and piercing blue eyes; Theo had never seen eyes that blue before. Glancing at the rank insignia on the other boy’s uniform Theo started to call out “Corporal . . .?”

“Dunbar sir. Corporal Patrick Lawrence Dunbar!” the NCO replied, firming up his salute.

“Would you mind telling me where your rifle is, Corporal Dunbar?” Theo asked unamused.

“I uh, it’s right here sir” he said frantically looking around, trying to find his weapon. The gun had been propped up against a dug-out in the trench, but at some point had fallen over without him noticing. Grabbing the rifle, Cpl. Dunbar brought it up to his shoulder, while Theo continued his review.

“No more writing until you strip and clean your rifle, soldier!” Theo ordered, grabbing the small book out of the other boy’s hand.

“Yes sir!” was the quick response he heard as he walked away.

 

Theo started to flip through the pages of the book; it seemed to alternate between fragments of poetry and colorful sketches. There were drawings of birds perched on the fragments of trees that were scattered across the battlefield; sketches of flowers, bright red poppies, growing out of mud and broken earth. “How was anyone able to find this kind of beauty in such a hellish world?” Theo pondered to himself, feeling touched after looking through the book.

 

Lt. Raeken walked back over to where the Corporal was seated (struggling to re-assemble the bolt on his rifle). “How does someone like you, end up in the Army?” he asked the other boy

“I volunteered!” Cpl. Dunbar replied cheerfully

“Really?” Theo asked in disbelief

“They told me that if I volunteered, my younger brother would be exempt from the draft” he explained

Theo looked over to him nodding in understanding

“Me signing up means he can finish school, he’s so good with history! Do you have any siblings, sir?” he asked

Theo paused for a moment, before deciding to grace the boy with an honest reply, “an older sister”

“What’s her name, if you don’t mind my asking?” the other soldier said

“Tara” Theo replied, “Your brother?”

“William, sir” Cpl. Dunbar replied.

“Let’s just try to make it through all this so we can get back to them, alright?” Lt. Raeken said

“Will try, sir!” Cpl. Dunbar said with another quick salute

“One more thing” Theo started

Theo handed the other boy the small black book filled with the drawings and writing he had confiscated before.

“This. Don’t let anyone stop you from doing this” he gestured towards the book

“Is that an order, sir?” Cpl. Dunbar asked with a smile

“It is now” Lt. Raeken said, before turning and continuing to move his way further down the trench.

 

\-------

 

 

Brett got back to the hotel room, to find Liam sitting on the bed.

“Find anything?” Liam asked

 

Brett nodded as he placed his suit jacket over the back of one of the small chairs in the room. “There’s something crooked about the police captain. I think he’s working with the Argent’s” he stated.

Liam’s eyes widened, “That’s not a swell way to start off”

 

“What about you, make any progress with the Hales?” Brett asked, untying his shoes.

“Kind of. There was a big shoot-out! And then they offered me a job!” Liam replied excitedly

 

“They have any idea who you work for?” Brett asked, worried

“I didn’t have my badge or my gun on me, and I didn’t give them my last name, so I think I’m safe for now” Liam said back

 

“Good” was the reply from Brett, before the other man turned out the light on the table between the beds.

 

\-------

 

 

The police captain made his way back into his office inside of the police station in downtown Miami.

 

Picking up the phone he quickly got put through to Gerard Argent

“Anything to report?” the godfather of Miami asked

“The boys took care of the mess from last night. Papers are gonna run that it was a robbery gone bad” he replied

“Excellent, so all is well?” the older man asked

“Sort of. . .” the captain trailed off, the image of Agent Talbot flashing through his mind

 

“I think we might have a problem” the captain added

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3: Hit and Run, and Hit Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brett gets some leads, and the Hale's strike back! More mayhem and madness with our favorite duo!

Chapter 3: Hit and Run, and Hit Again

 

“I think we might have a problem” the captain repeated

“A problem?” Gerard challenged

“There’s uh . . .” the police captain stuttered

“Out with it man! I haven’t got all day here!” Gerard said impatiently

“A federal agent; a prohi to be exact. Keeps sniffing around the shipment your boys knocked up. Thinks it was a hit from a rival gang” the captain finished

“Is this going to be an issue . . . _captain_?” Gerard inquired in such a tone as to strike pure terror into the man on the other line

“Uh, no sir” he quickly replied, “But uh, what do you want me to _do_ with him?” he asked nervously

 

Gerard paused for a moment.

“He’s a fed, right? If he’s here to find alcohol, give him something to find!” Gerard suggested with a slight smile (invisible of course to the police captain).

“Sir?” the captain asked confused

“I’m sending one of my boys to meet you downtown at the McAllister Hotel; he’ll have the details and the address” Gerard stated

“Yes s-” the older man hung up the phone before the captain could finish.

 

\-------

 

_Earlier that day_

 

“Kate, how’s my favorite daughter?” Gerard Argent asked insincerely from behind his ominous large walnut desk, cigar smoke permeating every part of the room.

“You may have forgotten, but I’m also your _only_ daughter” Kate Argent replied, annoyed with how her father continued to always talk down to her. The other woman stood impatiently at the other end of the room, dress pants, matching vest and white dress shit underneath with a striped necktie. She removed her hat, and set it on the stand by the entrance to the room.

“Wouldn’t know it by looking at you!” the old man bellowed, “Since when does an Argent woman wear pants for Christ’s sake?!” he chided

“It’s the 1920’s, not the 1820’s; besides picture stars like Marlene Dietrich are doing it!” she protested

“This is what happens when you give women the vote!” Gerard groaned “What do you want this time?” he asked

“Why does Chris get 15%?” she asked, accusingly

Gerard just squinted at her

“I only get 5%! I manage your primary warehouse, _and_ I help with your dirty work!” she added, clearly disgruntled

“So you want a raise then, that’s it?” Gerard chuckled, raising one eye-brow

“Seems fair” Kate replied, not breaking eye-contact with her father

“7%” Gerard offered

“20%” Kate demanded, clearly insulted by the first offer “I easily do 5% more work than my brother!”

“12% and I let you keep your current position” Gerard countered

Kate was about to object, but then Gerard added “ . . . unless you’d rather I send you to work at Bryant’s?” he trailed off threateningly

“12%” Kate grumbled in agreement

“It’s settled then. Let us never speak of this nonsense again, lest I start to think you ungrateful for all that this family has done for you!” Gerard concluded

 

Kate turned, not saying anything, and walked out of the room; grabbing her hat as she let the door close behind her. It was better than nothing she thought.

 

Just then, Gerard’s phone rang. “Anything to report?” the godfather of Miami asked into the receiver

\-------

 

 

The Hotel McAllister was the largest building of its kind at the time; Miami’s first real skyscraper. Police Captain Roiz sat in the lobby, nervously holding his newspaper, and awaiting Gerard’s instructions.

 

A young boy, maybe fourteen or fifteen hurriedly walked up to him. “Hey mister!” the boy started, before pulling a small slip of paper from out of his newsboy cap, “I think you dropped this outside”. The boy handed the slip of paper to the captain. The older man fished out a few coins from his pocket and handed them to the boy, who nodded before running back out through the lobby.

 

Captain Roiz carefully opened the note. It was an address.

He knew what he had to do. Getting up he leisurely made his way over to one of the enclosed telephone booths. Sitting down on the bench, he placed a few coins into the machine and awaited the operator. “Hello, operator? Could you please connect me with the front desk at the hotel Cortez? Thanks” the captain spoke into the receiver, glancing down at the card Agent Talbot had handed him at the murder scene.

He waited until he heard the front desk assistant pick up the phone.

“Thank you for calling the Hotel Cortez, how may we assist you?” the friendly voice spoke into the other line

“I’d like to leave an urgent message for Agent Brett Talbot, I believe he’s staying in one of your rooms?” the captain asked

“Certainly, may I ask who this message is from?” the attendant asked dutifully

“That’s not important. I need you to tell him there is a large illegal liquor depot in the warehouse on 5th street, in the Cuban district.” The captain finished hurriedly

“Sir, can I at least get a return phone numb-” CLICK

Captain Roiz hung up the receiver and quickly made his way out of the hotel lobby.

 

\-------

 

Liam hurriedly rushed to meet up with Theo at the agreed upon time in the upstairs room of The Beacon. Rounding the top of the stairs, he knocked three times, counted to five, and then quickly knocked seven more times. The door suddenly opened; there stood Theo Raeken, shirtsleeves rolled up, side holster looped under his suspenders, necktie loosened down to the second button (the first remaining unfastened, showing off a bit of the toned neck of the older gent), his face darkened by his five o’clock shadow. “You’re late” he grumbled

“I uh – I thought I was being followed” Liam tried, looking around the room, peering through the thick haze of smoke to see the other individuals seated around him.

“You weren’t, were you?” Derek Hale asked, eyebrow cocked

“Weren’t?” Liam asked confused

“Followed!” Peter Hale finally broke in “Raeken, you sure know how to pick ‘em” the elder Hale remarked sarcastically

Liam shook his head indicating that he was not in fact followed. In truth, he was almost early, but halfway there he realized he still had his badge on him, so he had to double back to his hotel room to drop it back off in the drawer. Of course, he couldn’t let anyone here in on that little detail.

 

“Now that we’re all accounted for” Peter Hale started, from behind his desk, “I think it’s high time we send old man Argent a ‘token of our gratitude’ for his gift the other night, wouldn’t you fine gentlemen . . .and _lady_ agree?” he said gesturing towards Ms. Reyes who was leaning against the corner of the bookshelf, opposite the desk, biting into an apple.

 

Pulling a crudely drawn map out from under his desk, Peter Hale continued his briefing. “We all know Gerard Argent is the largest game in town. He’s got more men, more guns, more money, more trucks, more slimy politicians and dirty cops than all the rest of the outfits like ours put together. Up until now, I’ve been fairly content to take what we can get, slowly edge in on his territory; not do anything _stupid_ ” he said, glaring at his nephew.

“But the other night? Shooting up our nightclub like that? That was an act of war! A thing like that can’t go unanswered” Peter finished

 

A man standing in the back of the room wearing black pants, a black jacket, and a white shirt with a dark tie with white flecks in the pattern perked up. “So if we’re outmanned, outgunned, and outspent, then what are we supposed to do?” he asked, a hint of sass in his tone

 

“Well, _Mr. Lahey_. . .” Peter started, staring down at the other man, “Gerard’s biggest strength, is also his greatest weakness. He’s everywhere. He’s been in charge so long, he doesn’t remember what it feels like to be on the run. He’s not just complacent, he’s flagrant with his dealings; doesn’t even try to hide it.” He finished.

 

“Which is why we’re going to hit him where it hurts, and hard” Derek added

 

“Precisely my good nephew!” Peter grinned. “It’s no secret to anyone that the largest illicit alcohol cache in the entire Southeastern seaboard is stored in that warehouse over on 5th street. It’s also no secret that it is one of the main cogs in the Argent machine.”

 

“Stop the cog, break the machine . . .” Liam trailed off

 

Peter looked over, “You’re not as dumb as you look kid!” he chuckled

 

“It won’t stop the Argent’s, but it will definitely muck up a lot of their supply operation” Derek chimed in

 

“Providing the perfect opportunity for those of us that have readily available caches of booze, to provide them to former Argent customers” Peter explained with a great sense of satisfaction. “Derek will fill the rest of you in on the particulars, as I have some other business to attend to. The rest of you meet downstairs at 7 o’clock sharp!” the elder Hale finished.

 

Everyone in the room nodded in agreement, and quickly dispersed down the stairs; each one eagerly awaiting their chance at revenge.

 

\-------

 

“Sir, you’re not allowed back here; this is a county morgue, official business only!” the chief coroner protested as the dashing man in a suit barged his way in past the orderlies in the hallway and through the double doors leading into the morgue. Agent Talbot simply waved his badge in front of the bewildered man’s face. “The bodies from the other night. I need to see them.” He said coldly

“Sir, uh, Agent. . .” the coroner started

“Agent Talbot” Brett answered

“Ah, Agent Talbot; we had several bodies brought in last night, you’re going to have to be more specific” the coroner tried

“Don’t play stupid with me; there were a half-dozen men with gunshot wounds, all shot execution style. I need to see the bodies, and the belongings that were recovered.” Agent Talbot ordered

“Uh, yes, right this way” the coroner gestured nervously.

 

Agent Talbot removed his hat at the sight of the corpses before him, lying on the slabs. Each one with a single gunshot wound. Each one cold. The smell of formaldehyde filled the air, and stung his nostrils.

“These men are still dressed?” Agent Talbot said, looking over to the coroner in surprise

“They, uh, the mayor’s office said that all of the families of the deceased had elected to forgo an autopsy. We’re just keeping them until the funeral arrangements have been finalized.” The other man explained

 

“Hmmm” Brett hummed to himself, “Doesn’t that seem a little odd to you? Six bodies all brought in on the same night, all killed the same way, and not a single one is allowing an autopsy?” the agent asked

“I uh, I just do what I’m told agent” the coroner stuttered, “I’ll be back in my office if you need anything, please try not to touch the bodies” he added

Brett nodded, and watched the scraggly man in the white lab coat scurry away into the other room.

 

He glanced down at each of the bodies before him, trying to find something that might give him a lead on who ordered the hit. He knew what he felt in his gut, but without anything solid to go on, there was no way to connect the pieces.

 

Looking over, something suddenly caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Moving closer to the rather obese man to the far right, he noticed something strange on the collar of his white shirt. Was that? It was red, and glossy. Yep, definitely lipstick, Brett thought to himself. “No way a man dressed like that, out in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night was sporting kiss from his wife” he mused under his breath.

 

Turning his head to his left, and then to his right; Agent Talbot saw the coast was clear. The coroner was busy pushing pencils in the back office, and the orderlies were nowhere in sight. Perfect, he thought to himself.

He made quick work fishing through the man’s pockets. A few wads of cash, a gold pocket watch, a cigar, a few poker chips; nothing of use. Going through one of his inner coat pockets Brett pulled out what appeared to be a brand new matchbook. The cover read “Bryant’s”. He knew that name. Thinking for a second he recalled the report the director had given him on the extent of the Argent criminal empire in Miami; gambling, alcohol, and prostitution. There it was! Bryant’s was the brothel on 2nd, and a crown jewel in Gerard’s underworld dealings.

 

Of course he didn’t have the authority to stop it, the Volstead Act didn’t give him much jurisdiction over prostitution after all; but here was a man that before he was murdered, was in all likelihood last seen alive at an establishment run by the Argents.

 

It wasn’t much of a connection, but it was definitely a start.

 

\-------

 

Theo flicked his lighter on and off absentmindedly while he sat at the small table near the bar in the back room of The Beacon, Liam sat next to him strumming his fingers on and off the edge of the table.

“Nervous, kid?” Theo asked looking over at the young man to his left

“Not really” Liam lied, trying his best to sound confident

“It’s okay if you’re a little scared. Means you’ve still got something inside worth living for. Only fools and dead men are completely fearless” Theo said, attempting to reassure the younger man

“Seems like it’s taking them forever!” Liam lamented

“I remember those moments; the minutes before a big offensive, just waiting for that whistle to sound sending you over the top. Felt like days had passed, when it had only been seconds. After so long you began to lose track of any concept of time”

 

Liam saw the look on the other man’s face again; Theo’s eyes fixed on a spot across the room, but their focus seemed to be miles away.

 

Before Liam could ask what he meant by that, Derek Hale appeared entered the room. “Looks like everyone is finally here” he observed, looking around the room at the assembled group.

 

“What’s the plan, boss?” Lahey asked from the other table near Theo and Liam

“Simple. We take the truck over to the warehouse. Now there are usually two or three of Argent’s men on lookout just outside.” Derek started to explain

“Raeken; you and Lahey will sneak up on the lookouts and make sure they don’t give us any trouble” he said gesturing over towards the two men. Lahey smiled and nodded

“Once the coast is clear, we’ll back the truck up. Raeken and Lahey will get them to open the rear gate, posing as a delivery. Once the door is open, we drop the rear hatch and introduce them to “Black Betty”. Once we’ve opened up on ‘em, Boyd and Reyes will cover from the right, and Raeken will take the kid on the left to make sure there are no stragglers” Derek Hale finished matter-of-factly.

 

“Easy in, easy out” Boyd chuckled

 

“Hey kid, you carrying heat?” Lahey asked Liam

The younger man nodded, and fumbled for his .38 police issue revolver from his pocket before lying it on the table.

“Where’d you get that?” the other man asked inquisitively

“My pops was a cop, passed it on when he retired” Liam lied

“Son of a cop running booze with the rest of us; ha, where’d you find this kid Raeken?” Lahey laughed

Theo started, but Derek quickly cut-off the conversation.

“Alright, enough talk. Everyone know what they’ve got to do?” the younger Hale asked

Everyone in the room nodded.

“Good, let’s get loaded up and roll out. We want to hit the Argent stash in about 45, so get ready and meet me in the truck!” Derek ordered, to a round of silent nods from the rest of the group.

 

As everyone got up and started to follow the younger Hale out towards the exit where the truck was parked, Liam tugged gently on Theo’s sleeve, “Who’s ‘Black Betty’?” he asked

Theo just grinned, “You’ll see!” he winked

Liam just followed, very much unsure of what was about to go down.

 

\-------

 

Brett walked hurriedly past the entrance of the Hotel Cortez, almost missing the attendant from the front desk trying to flag him down.

“Agent Talbot, I have a message for you!” the young man called out

 

Stopping in his tracks, Brett turned and accepted the small card the front desk attendant had extended, with the message written on it. He hurriedly glanced it over. An address, claiming to be one of the largest liquor stashes in the state. “Did they leave a name? The person that gave you this?” he asked suspiciously

“No, sir. Came in on the telephone; disconnected before I could ask the gentleman’s name. Only that he said this was something you would find important” came the reply from the attendant.

 

Brett shrugged off the younger man, and made his way up to his shared room. He noticed that Agent Dunbar was out; he checked the drawer to see that the younger man’s badge was still in place.

 

Brett pulled out a pen from his coat pocket and sat down to write a quick note to his partner on the hotel stationary:

 

_“Might be back late. Large liquor bust at warehouse down on 5 th. Found a lead on the murders from the other night. One of the victims visited the brothel run by the Argent’s, ‘Bryant’s’. Report back soon.”_

 

Brett folded the note, and set it on the nightstand by Liam’s bed.

 

Standing up, Agent Talbot adjusted his tie and felt for badge and pistol; ensuring both were in the correct place on his person. The lead on the previous night’s killings would have to wait; he couldn’t afford to pass up an opportunity like this.

 

Making his way back outside the front of the hotel, he quickly flagged down a cab and instructed the driver to take him to the police station as fast as possible.

 

\-------

 

Captain Roiz was filing through a mountain of papers scattered across his desk; police reports, approved warrants, applications, and the departmental budget among other things. If it weren’t for the sheer force with which the dashing man in the hat and coat had burst through his office door, he likely wouldn’t have noticed.

 

Setting the folder he currently had open back down on his desk, he looked up at the recent intruder; a look of annoyance upon his face.

“Agent Talbot, this is starting to become a regular occurrence; should I get you your own desk?” the captain mocked

“That won’t be necessary” Brett coldly dismissed, clearly in no mood for games

“Then how can I help you, Agent?” Captain Roiz asked, in a less than helpful tone

“I need all of your available men to come with me to the warehouse down on 5th right away” Brett ordered

“Agent” the captain started, “my men are _very_ busy, I’m afraid I don’t have that many units to spare; what with crime the way it is these days”

“Don’t test me Captain” Brett snarled, “one telephone call into the Tallahassee field office, and I could have this station filled with feds” he threatened

 

Captain Roiz leaned back in this office chair, “Then why haven’t you done so already?” he asked slyly

Brett didn’t say anything

“Unless of course, by the time they would get here it would be too late, and you would be the ‘agent who cried wolf’; never again to be taken seriously by your superiors” the captain said with a slight smirk

Brett just glared at him, “Are you going to help me, or not?” he finally managed to grit through his teeth.

 

“I’ll give you 6 men, and two cars; but keep this clean. I don’t want any of my boys coming back home in the meat wagon Agent Talbot.” The captain finally replied

Brett didn’t say anything in return, just nodded his head, and turned on heel making his way out of the office, and towards the police motor pool.

 

\-------

 

Kate Argent made her rounds inside the massive warehouse that contained almost the entire stock of the Argent liquor supply.

 

Holding her cigarette steady between her lips, she walked back towards the unloading area. Three workers were standing around, laughing, and most irritatingly for her, not doing any ‘unloading’. Kate silently made her way up behind the three men, two of them immediately clamming up once they saw her, but the large Polish man with his back turned to her, didn’t even notice.

 

He took another gulp from the bottle he had in his right hand and started to continue in on his joke “. . .that broad was so stupid, she . . . guys? Come on, I was getting to the best part!”

Suddenly he yelped in pain as the lit end of a cigarette was pressed into the side of his neck from behind. “Hey what was that fo-” he immediately stopped what he was doing upon seeing the boss-lady come face to face with him; dropping the bottle he had in his hand to floor with a loud crash.

 

“I don’t know if you’re a klepto, or if you’re just stupid” she started, “but if I ever so much as suspect that you’re skimming bottles from the crates again, they’ll be pulling your body in with the morning catch from the Gulf, got it?” Kate threatened ominously

The Polish man nodded, as did the other two men across from him. “Now get back to unloading these crates!” she barked.

\-------

 

The ride in the truck was anything but smooth. Derek kept to using the alleys and side-streets, eventually turning onto the boardwalk leading behind the main warehouses on the waterfront. Liam was dreading how sore his butt was going to be the next morning; this was a million times worse than his father’s belt from when he was a kid.

Theo was seated next to his right, right by the tailgate; staring blankly out into the darkness passing by out the back opening. Reyes was directly to his left, still loudly biting into her apple; Boyd next to her, hat tucked down over his face trying in vain to catch a few last minutes z’s. Lahey was opposite Theo on the other side of the truck bed, a stupid grin plastered over his face, and an old unlit lantern placed between his feet. Nobody spoke of the massive cloaked object that took up most of the room in the center of the back of the bed.

 

Sensing the nervousness from the younger man, Lahey reached into the pocket of his black trench-coat and withdrew a pack of cigarettes, “Hey kid, smoke?” he offered, his own unlit cigarette dangling precariously from his lips. Liam shook his head back and forth, “Thanks, I’m fine” he declined politely. Liam hated smoking, it reminded him too much of his father back home. “What about you, Raeken?” Lahey offered to the man seated across from him.

“I’ll pass on the sniper sticks” Theo replied dismissively

“Suit yourself” Lahey muttered, before striking a match against the interior side of the truck bed.

“Sniper sticks?” Liam asked

“You tell him doughboy” Lahey chuckled, “since you’re the big damn hero and all”

Theo brushed it off. “Cigarettes make you an easy mark at night” he started

Liam still didn’t understand

“Alright, picture this; it is pitch black out, you can’t see them and they can’t see you. Suddenly you see the flare of a match lighting up, and the glow of the end of a cigarette as it’s brought up to some unlucky bastards face. Gives away his position, see? Just aim for the light and then BANG; all the brains he wasn’t using when he thought about lighting up are now splattered out the backside of his skull against the tree he was leaning on.”

 

Liam’s eyes widened. Yeah, definitely going to keep passing on the cigarettes he thought to himself.

 

Suddenly the truck rolled to a stop, and Derek cut the engine. They were here. Three knocks from the cab indicated that it was time for Theo and Lahey to get this started.

 

The two men hopped out of the truck bed. Sneaking their way through the shadows around the back of the warehouses, the two made their way behind a large shipping crate just behind the rear entrance to the Argent’s supply house. Two men with shotguns pointed towards the ground were standing on either side of the loading doors at the rear entrance.

Theo reached down into his boot and pulled out his trench knife. Making eye contact with Lahey he mouthed a silent “Ready?” to which the other man nodded affirmatively. Theo gestured with two fingers towards the right side of the doors, indicating the direction Lahey should take, while he started to sneak around towards the left side.

 

Watching the two guards carefully, Lahey waited for his moment. Both men looked like they were near the end of their rotation, and they seemed far more interested in their cigarettes than in anything that was going on around them. “Must have been a quiet night” he chuckled silently to himself. When they were both looking in the other direction he made a quick dash for the shipping containers near the right side of the warehouse. He quickly slid behind them, out of view, and caught his breath. Silence. He made it.

 

Theo sneakily dodged his way around crates until he was practically right on top of the man on the left. His thoughts kept slipping backwards, memories of that night in Belleau Wood pressing their way to the front of his mind; images of the sleeping old men and boys, the sounds they made as he plunged his bayonet into their chest and ripped the saw-toothed back edge of the blade up into their throat. He shook his head, trying to clear the images. He wasn’t that man anymore, that _animal_. “One more time” he thought to himself.

 

He looked up at the darkened sky. It was pitch black; the silvery celestial body absent from the night unable to cast it’s judgmental beams on what he was about to do.

A hidden moon for hidden sins; he thought, though for long could such things remain such he wondered.

“Over the top” he muttered to himself

 

In one swift motion, Theo vaulted the crate, and quickly brought his trench-knife through the other man’s throat. The man slumped to the ground, hands clasped over the mortal wound, blood pouring down his front as he tried to gurgle out a warning to the other man standing watch.

 

Hearing the drop of the body and the weapon to the pavement, the other guard turned to investigate; he brought his shotgun up to his shoulder and leveled it at Theo.

 

Right as he was about to pull the trigger, Lahey brought the butt of his pistol crashing down across the back of the man’s head with a sickening CRACK. He smirked as he watched the other man also slump to the ground.

“Looks like we’re all clear Raeken” he grinned lightly at Theo.

 

Theo waved his hand to signal Derek to back up the truck, until it was just a few feet away from the doors.

Hopping out of the driver’s side, Derek quickly made his way into the back. Boyd and Reyes grabbed their weapons from the box in the back, two Thomson sub-machine guns. Liam started to reach for his pistol before a knowing look came over from Derek, “not with that pea-shooter kid, here” the younger Hale shoved another Tommy gun into the younger man’s chest, this one with a stick magazine rather than a full drum. “You’ll give better cover with that” he advised.

 

Liam jumped out and moved over to the side of the doors where Theo was standing, following the plan. Boyd and Reyes were on the other side, also out of sight. Derek stayed ducked under the tarp covering the mysterious object inside the truck bed.

 

Theo looked over to Lahey, the other man nodded back and proceeded to bang on the door. “Hey open up! Got a special delivery, just for the Old Man!” he shouted.

Nothing.

He shrugged and tried beating on the door again. This time it opened to a large man with a cigarette burn on the side of his neck. “What do you want?” he asked suspiciously

“Boss says we’ve got a special delivery, Gerard’s eyes only” Lahey stated, gesturing a hand to the back of the truck.

The other man didn’t say anything.

“Come on, get your guys out here, could use a little help to get this fully unloaded” he said as he started walking towards the truck bed.

The large man gave a short whistle, and about a dozen other lightly armed men showed up behind him and started following the Lahey to the truck bed.

 

Suddenly Lahey pulled the back of the hatch down, and rolled underneath the truck.

“What the hell?” one of the other men called out.

Derek Hale emerged from the tarp, revealing an all-black 1910 Maxim gun

“Oh fu-”, but the other man never got to finish that sentence

TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TATA-TATA-TAT came the sound as Derek unleashed hundreds of rounds into the group of men in front of him. Bullets flew into the crates of liquor behind the men, and the clink of shell casings falling into the side of the truck bed rang throughout the alley.

 

\-------

 

“What the hell was that?!” Kate Argent shouted over the sound of the machine gun and shattering bottles

“I think someone’s shooting at us!” one of Argent’s men replied back

Kate rolled her eyes, “Then shoot him, before I shoot you first!” she threatened, pulling her pearl handled revolver from her waistband.

The man nodded and quickly started heading to the back of the warehouse, ducking behind crates before trying to return fire.

 

\-------

 

Agent Talbot was waiting with the men Captain Roiz had provided him, just outside the front entrance to the warehouse. He was all set to kick in the front door when all of a sudden he heard the roar of gunfire from the back of the building. “What the-?” he exclaimed, taken aback at the unexpected firefight. “Shit!” he muttered under his breath. “All right, let’s get in there now!” he ordered.

Brett kicked the door in, and several police officers rushed into the front of the warehouse.

“Agent Brett Talbot, Department of Justice, Prohibition Enforcement Division! Put your weapons down now!” he shouted into the room.

Rather than an immediate surrender, as he would have liked, the reply came in the form of bullets flying in his direction. The young cop to his right, took three shots right in the chest, before crumpling to the floor. Brett ducked, narrowly avoiding a shot; although his hat was not so lucky.

Ducking behind a crate, he tried to fire off a few rounds in the direction the other shots came from; but there was no end in sight.

 

\-------

“ _That’s_ Black Betty kid!” Theo cheered over to Liam, who only nodded in understanding.

Suddenly the gunfire from the back of the truck stopped. “It’s jammed!” Derek called out.

“That’s our cue!” Reyes shouted to Boyd, and the others.

The rest of the group fanned out, to provide covering fire on the warehouse, so that Derek could clear the misfire from the weapon.

 

Three men rushed out the right side of the warehouse, all instantly mowed down by torrents of lead from Boyd and Reyes.

 

“Theo no!” Liam called out, before tackling the older boy to the ground, bullets from the Argent goon that had snuck up behind him barely missing the two. Lahey pulled out his pistol and promptly nested a .45 round between the other man’s eyes.

 

Theo was a bit stunned, laying face-down on the ground with Liam on top of him; he felt something press into his back. “Is that a tommy-gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” he smirked

“I uh,” Liam started, also face-down, not entirely sure how to respond

 

Lahey rushed over to help cover Reyes as she was reloading. Just then another man appeared from the warehouse, pistol drawn, pointed at the two men laying face-down on the ground.

 

“Hands where I can see them, get up. Nice and slow” He ordered

Liam slowly raised his hands above his head, leaving the tommy-gun, somewhat concealed under his coat, but still at his side. Theo kept his hands at his side, and felt for the stock of the gun.

“Hey, you too!” the man barked at Theo

Theo just smiled, firming up his grip on the weapon. “I could kiss you right now” he said to Liam, who was completely bewildered by what was going on.

In a single agile twist, Theo rolled over so that Liam was now face up, but underneath him. Quickly raising the machine-gun from Liam’s side, Theo squeezed hard on the trigger, sending the other man stumbling back into some crates, before falling to the ground, blood spilling down his front.

 

Theo stood up, and held out a hand to help Liam to his feet. “Thanks kid!” he said quickly

Liam looked off in the distance, there were cars parked on the front side of the warehouse, just barely visible from their current position in the alley. Then he saw the seven pointed star on the side. Police.

“What are the police doing here already?” he asked aloud

“Think that’s our cue to blow this joint, boss!” Boyd called out to Derek from the other side.

“No arguments here! Get in!” Derek called out.

 

Everyone was running towards the back of the truck, except Lahey. “What are you doing?!” Liam called out, as he watched the other man strike a match and ignite the oil lamp in his other hand. “Makin’ sure we get a clean sneak!” he called out with a devilish grin, before he threw the lamp into the floor of the warehouse. It shattered, spilling flames all over the ground (which was quite saturated with the contents of the shot-up liquor bottles). The blaze quickly spread throughout the warehouse.

 

Lahey hopped in, leaving the gate down as Theo and Liam raced towards the awaiting get-away vehicle. They were about two yards out, when Theo heard the loud CRACK of a gunshot, and saw Liam’s left leg buckle. “Come on kid, let’s hurry!” he shouted, throwing the younger man’s left arm around his shoulder as he supported him onto the truck.

Once the tailgate was closed, Theo banged on the back of the cabin indicating they were all ready to go. “Hurry up, kid needs the doc!” Theo shouted as Derek shifted the truck into first and sped off back towards The Beacon.

 

\------

“Sergeant, get your men out of there; that fire could blow the building any second!” Brett called out at the few cops still inside.

They came rushing outside, just in the nick of time, as flames suddenly roared to life, completely engulfing the warehouse.

 

Agent Talbot just gazed into the flames, their hellish light dancing across his eyes as he watched the single largest liquor cache he had ever seen go up in a blaze. He thought for a second. Some men would be discouraged, but technically he was supposed to destroy it all anyway; so this still counts in the win column. That and the press would be all over this. A major illicit alcohol cache, almost setting the entire waterfront on fire; combined with what he could only assume was a shoot-out by a rival gang. This would certainly get the sort of attention he needed to get more men and resources flowing his way.

 

Still, he couldn’t help but think this had been just a bit _too_ easy.

 

\-------

 

Kate Argent coughed through the thick smoke that was billowing through the warehouse. Crawling on the floor, she just made it out the back entrance, when a section of the roof fell down behind her, sending embers flying in every direction.

 

Barely making her way outside, she saw the dead bodies scattered around the entrance. She also saw the burnout marks from the tires of what she reasoned was the vehicle of her assailants.

 

“Cops, _and_ a rival gang hit? On the same night? This place was supposed to be untouchable” she thought to herself. This had to be a set-up.

 

She coughed, as she made her way to her feet. She had some cash stored away, and a few safe places nobody else knew about. She was going to get to the bottom of this one way or another.

 

\-------

 

Derek pulled the truck into the loading area of The Beacon as quickly as he could, the tires squealing as he gave the brakes no mercy.

Lahey, Reyes, and Boyd all hopped out of the truck and made their departure; knowing Peter would have their cut the next day once things were a bit more settled.

 

Derek helped Theo carry Liam into The Beacon. “Uncle!” he called out

“You’re going to be fine, you’re doing great Liam!” Theo tried to reassure the man on his shoulder. Liam nodded weakly.

“What is it?” came the reply from Peter in the back room.

“Kid got clipped, is Doc around?” Theo answered before Derek could say anything. The two men hauled Liam on top of the bar, leg still bleeding out.

Peter looked down at the secret door to the basement behind the bar. Grabbing a broom, he banged the handle against it until he heard metallic crash and some hurried, but uneven, shuffling from below. “Sounds like it. Raeken, get him down there right away!” Peter ordered, “I don’t want him bleeding all over my nice bar” he grumbled

 

Theo opened the hatch and slowly eased Liam down the rickety step ladder, to the make-shift lab under the bar.

Liam fluttered his eyes open through the eerie incandescent light of the secret room. A clean shaven man in a white lab coat hurried to meet them. He quickly took in a breath from a balloon he was holding in his right hand, before introducing himself. “Dr. Gabriel Valack, at your service” he said with a creepy giggle. The doctor took another breath in from his balloon before looking down at Liam’s leg, “oh dear, best get him to the table, chop-chop, hahaha” he rambled as he scurried towards a slab in the center of the room.

 

Theo followed with Liam still draped over his shoulder, looking over he saw the worried look on the injured man’s face. “Squirrely little fuck, isn’t he?” he tried to joke

“Wh-what’s _wrong_ with him?” Liam asked, still clinging to consciousness

“Eh, doc has a bit of problem with the nitrous oxide” he started, Liam still looked puzzled

“Laughing gas” Theo clarified

“Oh” was all Liam said, as Theo slowly lowered him onto the table

“Shhh!” Dr. Valack shushed bringing his index finger to his lips. “They’re listening. Watching. They all think I’m a failure, but I’ll show them! The Surgeon says your condition is . . .hehehe. . . _terminal_. But just you see, I’ll fix you up!” he continued to ramble, gesturing around him to what Liam could only assume were figments of his imagination. “Don’t listen to the Pathologist, all of my instruments are the cleanest they can be, no infection here hahaha!” he whispered

“Believe it or not, there are still three states that _haven’t_ revoked his medical license” Theo chuckled

“We’re all works in progress” Dr. Valack chuckled as he took another breath in from his balloon.

 

“Hmmm” Dr. Valack mused as he looked over Liam’s leg. “I don’t see an exit wound, bullet must still be somewhere. Just need to take a look inside” he trailed off. “Do you want anything for the pain, some nitrous perhaps?” he offered

 

“No gas!” Theo growled.

“Suit yourself” the doctor giggled as he brought his instruments up and started digging into Liam’s leg to remove the bullet.

Theo started to turn to head back upstairs, but Liam grabbed at his arm. The look in his eyes told Theo everything he needed to know. “Please stay, don’t leave me all alone” was what that look was silently telling him. A look he had seen countless times before on the battlefield.

Nodding Theo pulled up a stool and stayed next to Liam. He grabbed the other boy’s hand in his. “You’ll be alright, Doc’s patched me up more times than I care to remember” he said, trying to be reassuring. He handed Liam a small cup of bourbon. “Drink, it will help with the pain!” he ordered. Liam did as he was told.

 

“Found it!” Dr. Valack exclaimed as he pulled out the piece of lead out from Liam’s leg, causing his patient to wince in pain.

Theo knew he needed to distract him if the younger man was going to make it through this without passing out.

“Hey, hey, stay with me bud” he began

Liam blinked at him, breathing deeply through his nose and keeping eye contact

“So what’s a nice kid like you doing here anyway?” Theo tried to joke

Liam looked up him, the pain still burning through his mind; he tried to focus on what Theo had said. “Holding the hand of the man that just saved my life” he said, before passing out.

 

“It’s alright now, it’s alright. I’ve sewn him up, nice and tight. No more bullets in his leg, see!” Dr. Valack called out before tossing the bullet at some imaginary specter, and wandering off towards somewhere else in the lab.

 

With the bullet out, and Liam’s leg sewn back up, the bleeding had stopped. The younger man just needed to rest. Theo carried him up from the dingy room, and up the stairs to the second floor. He laid the sleeping boy out on the couch in Peter’s office; the elder Hale not even attempting to protest, just a quick nod of the head before leaving the two of them alone.

 

Theo stayed by his side. This was a scene he had witnessed far too often when he was in France. Battlefield hospitals full of the wounded, the dying; all of them just not wanting to be alone. This was something Theo could do. He brought his hand up to brush the hair out of Liam’s face.

 

Adjusting himself in his chair, Theo prepared himself for the long night ahead of him. It wasn’t as if he ever slept much anyway . . .

\-------

 

 


	4. Between a Rock and a Hale Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate learns Gerard's true intentions. Liam and Theo both recover from the night before. Brett finds another lead.

Chapter 4: Between a Rock and a Hale Place

 

 

Theo stayed true to his promise, maintaining his silent vigil beside the younger man sleeping in front of him the entire night. He wasn’t certain how long he stayed like that; minutes, probably hours. All sense of time had faded as he watched the slow rising and falling of Liam’s chest; the younger boy’s steady breathing and soft heartbeat had almost a hypnotic effect on him.

 

He shook his head, trying to muster some level of alertness as he heard movement outside the door. Peter Hale quietly stepped inside. Placing one hand on Theo’s slumped shoulders he felt the other man jump slightly, before calming himself upon recognizing him.

 

“Theo” Peter called softly

A set of bleary faded-green eyes turned to look up at him

“You need to go home and get some sleep. I’ll have Derek take him back to his place when he’s awake; but for now, Doc says he needs to rest. There’s nothing more you can do.” Peter calmly explained to the tired man seated before him.

 

“I’m fine” Theo muttered, slowly standing to his feet to stretch his aching limbs

“You sure about that? When was the last time you slept? Got a special shipment coming in later and I need you at your best” Peter said

 

“I said I’m fine” Theo lied. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he slept; had it been hours? Days?

 

“Catch!” Peter called out, tossing something at him

 

By the time Theo had brought his hands up, the baseball had long since passed him and landed on the floor with a dull thud. “Thought so” Peter concluded. Theo nodded in silent understanding, finally admitting that Peter Hale was right. Theo had lightning fast reflexes, the fact that he missed such a slow pass only a few feet away spoke all that he needed to hear.

 

As he got up and started to leave he turned for one more look at the younger man on the couch. Liam was in a deep sleep, and he looked so peaceful.

“He’ll be alright” Peter said, noticing the worried expression on the other man’s face, “Now go get some sleep Raeken” he ordered

 

Theo nodded and grabbed his jacket from the back of chair before he began to walk out of the room; for the first time he noticed the sunlight pooling in through the cracks in the blinds. He really needed to get some rest.

 

\-------

Agent Talbot tipped the driver of the cab, before collecting his grey fedora and matching suit-jacket from the seat beside him and then stepping out onto the curb. If summers in D.C. were unbearable, then the heat level in Miami was something reminiscent of Dante’s _Inferno_. At least the sea breezes from being so close to the shore alleviated the humidity; much unlike the muggy haze that rolled off of the Potomac.

 

Putting his suit jacket back on, and adjusting his tie, Brett took a moment to regard the building before him. _Bryant’s_ looked like in a past life it may have been some grand hotel, with its three stories and elegant Victorian façade. He wondered what the previous occupants would think if they knew what manner of sordid business was conducted behind its majestic walls these days.

 

Shaking his head, Agent Talbot drew a deep breath and proceeded to step up to the front door. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the change in light when he finally did make his way inside. The brightness from the midday summer sun left him almost blind as he looked around the dimly lit front room. Dark, purple, velvet curtains draped the windows and entranceways; while dim gas-lamps provided the most minimal level of illumination. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, centered between two large winding staircases, casting a warm glow over the entre room. Thick smoke clung to the walls, and burned his nostrils.

 

Suddenly he found himself greeted by a man wearing a brilliant green silk suit, with matching bowtie.

“How may I service the gentleman today?” he asked coyly

“Are you the proprietor of this . .” Brett paused for a moment trying to choose his next words carefully (tact had never really been his strong-suit) “. . . _establishment_?” he finished

“I am he” the man in the green-suit replied with a slight twist of his lip as he looked the handsome man before him up and down

“Do you have a name?” Brett asked looking past the man at the various people moving about around them

“Bryant” the green-suited fellow answered, “and I assure you that we can accommodate almost _any_ interest” he finished with subtle wink

“Right now, what interests me the most Mr. Bryant is whether or not you can tell me anything about the most recent visit by one of your former ‘clients’” Brett stated coldly, producing a black and white photograph he had taken of the dead man in the morgue.

 

“Can’t say that I’ve ever seen him here before, although many people pay a great deal of money to not be seen here” Bryant explained, “doesn’t look familiar in the slightest” he dismissed

 

Brett was having none of this, producing his badge in one hand he pushed the photograph in his other closer to Bryant’s face, “I’m Federal Agent Brett Talbot, and I really think you should take a closer look” he insisted

 

The color immediately left Bryant’s face, the pale white skin contrasting sharply with his bright green clothes, before he regained his composure. “I th-thought we had an arrangement” Bryant whispered at the grey-suited man before him

 

“Not with me you don’t. Now for the last time, tell me what you know about this man the night before last” Brett practically growled at the timid figure before him

 

“He uh, he came in with a group” Bryant started

“Sort of figured that much” Brett murmured to himself, “Anything else?” he asked impatiently “Who he was with? Who he saw? What girl or girls he was with? Hell, whether he had the steak or the lobster even, anything!”

 

Quickly withdrawing a leather-bound log book from somewhere in his flowing green suit-coat, Bryant hurriedly flipped through the pages, fingers trembling with each turn. “Let’s see here . . .” he stuttered nervously. Suddenly his face lit up in relief as he finally found the entry he was looking for. Gerard insisted he keep notes on all of the patrons, as such information was often more effective than all the broken arms and legs in the world. “Says here, Slim-Jimmy, your guy there, was with one our top girls that night. Paid all in cash, up-front. Nice tipper too” Bryant continued to ramble on nervously.

 

Brett was lost for a minute on the irony of such a nick-name, ‘Slim-Jimmy’ was easily the fattest human being he had ever seen; it was a marvel of the modern age that they were even able to fit the body through the morgue-doors at all.

“Which girl?” Brett asked, a little less irate this time

“Right over there!” Bryant pointed over to the spot on the wall a young lady was leaning on, lit cigarette on the end of the holder delicately perched between her lips.

“Thanks” Brett grunted as he shoved past Bryant towards the corner where the young miss was.

 

Brett observed her as he approached; she had soft, almost olive skin, with dark chocolate-brown eyes, and beautiful flowing hair to match. The scarlet red lipstick matched her low hung red dress that barely reached halfway down to her knees.

“Hey there handsome” she called out as he approached

Taking his hat off, Brett closed the distance between them, “do you have a name miss?”

Running her hand under his suit-jacket she felt his firmly defined chest muscles through his white dress shirt. “Honey, you can call me whatever you like” she teased, batting her eyes at the handsome man before her

 

Brett brushed her hand off his body in a swift movement, before pulling his badge out. “I’ll ask again, do you have a name?” he narrowed his eyes

 

Immediately she crossed her arms over her chest, and straightened her back against the wall behind her, “What’s this about, did Mr. Argent send you? Did Mr. Bryant complain? I’m trying my best!” she began, tears starting to form in her fear-stricken eyes

 

 “No, I’m not here for them” Brett said calmly, placing one hand on her shoulder in an attempt to reassure her that he in fact meant no harm, “I am Agent Brett Talbot, and I was just hoping you might be able to tell me something about a man that was here a few nights ago” he explained, before producing the photograph again from inside his coat pocket.

 

“My name is Hayden . . . Romero” she started with a pause, bringing one hand up to wipe the tears from her cheeks, “and yeah, I remember Slim-Jimmy, what’s this about?” she asked, a look of confusion in her eyes, like a doe caught in the high-beams of an oncoming truck.

“This man was found dead a few nights ago, along with some of his ‘friends’” Agent Talbot began to explain

“Oh my, that is just ghastly!” she cried out “Not that he was a great lay or nothin’ but he was always nice to the other girls” she quickly rambled in a much more calmed tone “what happened?”

 

“He, along with several other men, were found murdered a few nights prior. The police are saying it was a robbery, but I am of the belief there is something more sinister at work” Brett concluded

Hayden just continued to stare at him blankly

“Was there anything you remember about him from the last time he was in here?” Brett asked

“Not really” Hayden said, staring at her feet

“Anything at all. Did he talk about anything with his ‘friends’? Mention any kind of job or delivery?” Brett asked with increasing intensity

“Now that you mention it” she paused, looking up “but why do you care what happened to Slim-Jimmy anyway?” she pouted innocently

“Please, Ms. Romero, focus” Brett said, trying not to sound too frustrated, “just tell me anything you can remember, and I’ll tell Mr. Bryant how helpful you were” he added

“Oh really?! You’d do that? For me?” she exclaimed

“Yes, just please tell me what he was talking about that night” Brett sighed

“Well, he was going on about how he and boys had really made it this time, that’d they’d never have to kneel to Mr. Argent ever again. They were all celebrating, going all out. That’s why they came here” Hayden continued, recalling the boisterous conversation she had overheard

“Go on” Brett said

“Well, after they were done, they were talking about meeting back at this boathouse or something, down along the pier, you know?” she continued

 

Brett shook his head, this was like trying to interrogate a puppy. “No, I don’t know; is there anything else you remember, an address? A time? Any particular spot on the pier they were to meet at close to this boathouse?” he asked, continuing his line of questions

“Yeah, I think so . .” she trailed off, bringing her thumb to edge of her lip, smearing just the tiniest bit of her scarlet red lipstick, “Slim-Jimmy was goin’ on about this crab shack that was near there; said they had the best crab legs in the whole city” she finished

 

There it was; a detail he could actually use. Sure, Miami had its fair share of seafood joints; but there weren’t nearly as many establishments that solely did crab. Even fewer that were located on a pier. Brett was fairly certain he knew the location; the front desk clerk at the hotel practically made them promise to try it on their first day in the city, said it was “to die for”. They didn’t know just how right they were, he chuckled silently to himself.

 

“Thank you, Ms. Romero. That should be all I need.” Brett stated. Reaching inside his jacket he pulled out a card with his name and the phone number of the hotel he was staying in. “If you think of anything else, please don’t hesitate to call” he said, handing Hayden the card

 

Hayden took the card and looked back up at the handsome agent in front of her. Throwing he arms around his neck, she leaned in close “I can think of a few other things” she teased

Brett just brushed her off of him with a gentle shove

“What? Not even a kiss goodbye?” Hayden asked making a faux pouty face

 

“You’re not really my type” was all Agent Talbot said before finally making his way back towards the exit

 

 

Once the door had closed behind him, Hayden quickly made her way up to the closed door of the office on the second floor. “Did I do good, Mr. Bryant?” she asked

 

“You were perfect! Mr. Argent will be so happy” the green suited man sighed with a breath of relief

 

\-------

Theo made his way down the boardwalk of the marina and then climbed aboard the _Chimera_ , finding himself very much grateful for the railings that kept him from falling into the water as he tiredly tripped over his own feet several more times.

 

Climbing down into the cabin, Theo stared at his bunk; a mix of relief but also dread filled the weary man. Peter was right, he desperately needed to rest, but with all that had happened Theo feared what dreams might come for him.

 

Theo peeled off his shirt, tossing it mindlessly somewhere on the floor before collapsing onto the bed. Lying on his stomach with his face buried into his pillow, he just barely had enough energy to kick his shoes off; each one landing with a thud. Theo was out cold before the second one even hit the floor.

 

It had been a few weeks since Theo and Patrick had first met in the trench. Now they found themselves with the rest of their unit on the outskirts of a small farming village in northern France. Or at least what _had_ been a small farming village. There was scarcely anything recognizable about it; years of war and constant bombardment had reduced the houses and buildings to unidentifiable piles of rubble, and the once fertile fields were now twisted moonscapes of mud, trenches, and barbed wire. Theo couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a fully intact tree, all of the ones here had long since been reduced to splinters.

 

Lt. Raeken made his way down the line, checking on his men under the warmth of the noonday sun. 

As he approached the end of the trench he found Cpl. Dunbar sketching something in his small notebook, his rifle laying haphazardly on the ground.

 

Rather than chastise the young soldier for not taking proper care of his weapon, Theo waited patiently in front of him while staring curiously and trying to figure out what project had so enchanted the other boy.

 

Realizing this could be quite the wait, Lt. Raeken loudly cleared his throat. Completely startled, Cpl. Dunbar dropped his pencil (and just barely managed to catch his notebook) and made a hasty salute. “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t see you sir” he sputtered

Theo chuckled, “At ease corporal” he ordered

Patrick lowered his hand and bent over to retrieve his pencil from the muddy trench bottom.

“What were you working on just now?” Lt. Raeken asked. Ever since their first encounter, Theo had made it a point to ask; he genuinely enjoyed seeing the small drawings and lines of verse that filled the pages, he marveled at how the younger man was able to find such beauty in such a hellish world.

 

“Oh, um, it’s just a few sketches” he quickly answered before handing the book over to Theo.

The sharp dressed lieutenant flipped through the pages towards the end of the notebook, taking his time to carefully examine each one. There were three new additions since Patrick had last shared it with him.

 

“I thought I’d try to draw some of the other men in the unit. To remember, you know, in case . . .” Cpl. Dunbar trailed off, answering the un-asked question, and earning an understanding nod from his officer.

 

Theo chuckled a bit at the first one. Somehow Patrick had managed to perfectly capture the chronically dour facial expression of the unit’s sergeant, the narrowed eyes and furrowed brow accompanying the seemingly engraved frown lines on the older man’s face. Theo could almost hear him snarling in his head.

 

The second one was one of the newer privates, making a scrunched-up face and pouring his soup ration out onto the ground. Theo shook his head, remembering how long it took before he adjusted to “trench cuisine”.

 

Patrick stared at up him, crystal blue eyes waiting in nervous anticipation of the reaction to the final drawing.

Theo turned the page and stared in disbelief. The final drawing was of a man staring out into a field of bright red poppies, the emerald green of his eyes highlighted against the drab olive of his army uniform; and a very familiar mole delicately placed on the man’s left cheek.

 

The normally well composed officer involuntarily blushed a bit, before struggling to find the right words.

“You drew . . .me?” he asked after a slight pause, the inflection on the last part conveying his disbelief

 

“Is it alright?” Patrick asked innocently, afraid he might have crossed a line. “I know I probably should have asked you first, but you just looked so serene. I’ve never seen you that at peace before” he confessed

 

Theo looked away from the drawing for the first time and briefly made eye-contact with the young corporal before turning away. “It’s perfect” he said handing the notebook back, eliciting a much-relieved smile from Patrick. Grabbing his notebook and returning it to its place in his breast-pocket, he continued to stare up at the man in front of him; a sad frown and distant gaze had come over the lieutenant’s face.

 

“Everything alright, sir?” he asked cocking his head a bit to the side, the raised eyebrows mirroring the worry of the officer

 

Lt. Raeken reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded, yellow piece of paper. Fumbling with it briefly, he snapped his attention back to the man in front of him. “I’m not supposed to say anything yet” he started, “but the Captain says we’re planning an offensive tonight. Bunch of fresh reinforcements should get in before sundown. It’s a new moon, so the hope is we can cross over under cover of night and catch the enemy by surprise” he further explained, the sad expression not leaving his face

Cpl. Dunbar nodded his head in understanding. He had heard stories of “going over the top” from some of the more seasoned men in the unit.

“Just keep your weapon ready, and stick by my side. We’ll get through this” Theo reassured, placing a hand on Patrick’s shoulder.

 

“Yes sir, Lieutenant Theo!” Cpl. Dunbar replied with a grin while bringing his hand up in a quick salute

 

Theo shook his head. He should have been mad. He should have torn the young enlistee a new one, or made him dig latrines. Instead he did his best to suppress a smile. “It’s Lieutenant _Raeken_ ” he corrected, through his teeth

 

“Lieutenant Theo sounds better, more friendly” Patrick pouted

 

Theo again shook his head, “Mind your form Corporal” he advised before turning and starting to walk back down the line, “you’re going to get us _both_ court-martialed” he muttered under his breath.

 

 

\-------

 

Kate Argent let herself in the back door of _Bryant’s_. Despite still having soot on her face from her escape from the fiery warehouse the night before, she carried herself like she owned the place; which in a manner of speaking she kind of did. Well technically her father owned it, but Gerard wouldn’t be around forever she reasoned. Making her way over to the empty bar, she pulled up a stool and waited for the man behind the counter.

 

“Hewitt!” she called out, attempting to summon the absent bartender.

Suddenly a man appeared from around the corner, quickly running up to his station behind the bar

“Yes, Miss Kate?” Mason asked

 

Reaching over the bar, Kate pulled the lighter from the front pocket of his jacket where she knew he always kept it, and proceeded to ignite the unlit cigarette dangling precariously from her lips.

She flicked the wheel once, twice, three times before a tiny flame finally came to life. Taking a draw on the cigarette, she held it in for a moment before releasing the smoke through her nostrils with a contented sigh.

“Where’s your boss?” she asked, tossing the lighter back

“Cor- err Mr. Bryant is in his office at the moment” Mason recalled, “I don’t think he wishes to be disturbed”

“Well right now I very much wish to disturb him. So let him know I’m waiting for him” Kate started “and that I get my patience from my father” she advised coldly

Mason nodded quickly and left the bar to head for Mr. Bryant’s office to inform him of Kate’s arrival.

 

Grabbing a fifth of bourbon from beneath the counter, she swirled around on her stool so that she had her back towards the bar. Pulling the top off with her teeth, she spit the corked cap to the floor before taking a large gulp straight from the bottle. A timid looking man in a light grey three-piece suit with a gold rimmed monocle looked over at her from his table across the room in shock.

“What’s your problem? Cat got your dick?” Kate called out crassly, before taking another gulp of bourbon

 

The man, clearly intimidated by the woman at the bar, pushed his drink aside and quickly stood up and promptly left the room; much to Kate’s amusement.

 

A familiar voice rang through the room, “tsk tsk tsk, what am I going to do if you keep scaring off paying customers?” Bryant called out from the entrance to the bar

“Here I thought you were going to stand me up” Kate called back with a fake smile

“What? And miss my favorite Argent? I wouldn’t dare” Bryant replied as he closed the distance between himself and Kate

“Nobody has a favorite Argent” she corrected

Bryan shrugged in modest agreement, “Did Mr. Argent send you?” he asked

“In a round-about way I suppose he did” Kate mused, “he doesn’t know I’m here at the moment however” she added

Bryant looked on, confused. “So, is there something I can help you with then?”

“I need my room back. Just for a few nights” she demanded plainly

“It might take some time to prepare” Bryant started, surprised at the sudden request. Kate Argent had a room on the third floor, it was a personal suite she had back from when Gerard had her assisting with running the “business”. She hadn’t used it in years.

 

Reaching inside the inner pocket of her vest, Kate threw a wad of cash at the green-suited proprietor, “As I said, I need it back” she said

“Well, it’s all yours!” Bryant replied, tossing her a key from his pocket, and quickly depositing the cash, “Should I let your father know you’re staying with us?” he asked

 

Kate paused for a minute, internally weighing the possible outcomes. She needed to know if Gerard had set her up; and short of getting herself killed by asking him directly, there was only one way to find out.

“Of course!” she finally decided

 

Bryant nodded and headed to the stairs for his office

 

Kate settled back on the stool and took another drink. Now she just had to wait. If her father hadn’t set her up, and the feds showing up at the warehouse was really just an unfortunate coincidence, then nothing would happen; maybe he’d call at most. If on the other hand he was behind tipping off the police, well then Gerard’s men would be arriving shortly to finish the job.

 

This time she’d be waiting for them.

 

\-------

Liam let out a deep yawn as he stretched his stiff muscles. Slowly, he eased himself into an upright position on the small leather couch.

“You’re awake” Derek observed as he walked into the room, fresh cup of coffee in his hand

 

Liam rubbed the back of his neck, sore from the angle in which he had been sleeping. Blinking the remaining sleep from his eyes, he looked over at the empty chair beside him. “Where’s Theo?” he asked

 

“Peter sent him home to get some sleep” Derek answered, “He stayed by your side the entire night, and most of the morning” he added before taking a slurp of coffee from his cup.

 

Liam ran his hand along his closed wound. He had gotten lucky; the bullet had missed the bone and left a clean exit. He was also grateful that Theo had stayed by his side while the Doc was getting him patched up.

 

As if reading his thoughts, Derek broke through again. “You’re lucky” the other man said

 

“How’s that?” Liam asked, not sure where he was going with this

 

“Usually takes a lot longer for him to let anyone in; Theo that is. Trust doesn’t come easy for him” Derek explained. He set his coffee cup down on a leather coaster on top of his uncle’s desk. Rolling up his sleeves, he grabbed the first-aid kit he had brought up with him and started to walk towards Liam.

 

Liam nodded in understanding, and proceeded to pull up his pant leg so Derek could better help him change the dressing on his wound.

 

Liam winced as Derek started to remove the soiled bandage. “Does he live near around here?” Liam asked, trying to distract himself from the pain.

 

“Sort of. He lives on his boat down by the docks” the younger Hale answered

 

“he lives on a _boat_?” Liam asked in disbelief. Sure, people did that, he assumed, but it just sounded strange

 

Derek chuckled as he dabbed the stiches with disinfectant, eliciting a barely suppressed yelp from the younger man. “Trust me, it works out better for all parties involved”

 

Liam’s face twisted in confusion

 

Derek sighed and pulled the chair closer so he could take a seat while continuing his work. “When my uncle first hired Theo, we tried to help him out a bit. Get him back on his feet, you know?” he started to explain

 

Liam waited patiently for the next part

 

“My cousin, Miguel; he had a buddy who knew a guy who had a vacant apartment over in Little Havana he needed to rent out. Nothing fancy, small out-of-the-way one-bedroom kind of deal. Rent was cheap, and it was a much shorter walk to the _Beacon_.” Derek continued

 

“So, what happened?” Liam asked inquisitively

 

“Mr. Raeken left out the detail about his nightmares on his resume. So, one day Peter is counting some cash while I’m stocking the bar. Next thing we know the landlord’s old-lady is hitting my uncle with her bag and yelling frantically in Spanish” Derek explained while applying a clean bandage

 

“What was wrong?” Liam asked again, completely lost in Derek’s story

 

“Well, we eventually got her somewhat calmed down; at least calmed down enough that she stopped yelling and was able to take us to the apartment.” Derek began again, “When we got there, the landlord was frozen in place against the wall, absolutely terrified. Turns out he had heard a lot of commotion coming from the room Theo was in, and went to investigate. When Theo wouldn’t open the door, the man tried using his key; which Mr. Raeken responded to by putting 5 bullets through the door while screaming who-knows-what in German. How nobody got shot is nothing short of a miracle”

Derek sat back in the chair having finished re-bandaging Liam’s wound

 

“How’d you get him to stop?” Liam asked, eyes-wide

 

“We waited until he ran out of bullets” Derek stated matter-of-factly,

“When we finally did get inside, he was curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth in the corner. Peter and I took one of the bedsheets and wound it around him so he couldn’t move. Then Peter gave the landlord $100 to forget what happened, and we brought Theo back here. Doc gave him a sedative and we waited until he slept it off on the couch” he finished, “and that’s why he lives on the boat”

 

Liam nodded in understanding as Derek stood up from the chair and went back to the desk for his coffee.

“Well, it looks like it’s healing nicely; clean bandages should help. Let me know when you’re ready to go and I can take you back home” Derek stated as he started to walk out of the office

 

Liam nodded appreciatively and began to stand up, careful not to put too much weight on his still recovering leg.

“Actually, can I wait for Theo to get back? I sort of owe him for saving my life back there” Liam asked

 

“Sure, thing kid. Just try not to let Peter guilt you into cleaning up the bar” Derek advised with a light grin

 

“I heard that!” a voice rang out from down the hall

 

\-------

Kate Argent stealthily made her way through the hallway to her current position, right outside of Bryant’s office.

She heard the man lift the receiver of the phone up and ask to be connected directly to Mr. Argent; exactly as she expected.

 

Corey held his breath in as the phone rang on the other end. He hated having to deal directly with Gerard, he hated every aspect that made up their “business relationship”. The _only_ reason he chose to suffer the despotic old man, was because of the protection he afforded him, and more importantly Mason.

 

Kate listened on in the hallway as Bryant started to speak into the phone.

“Yes sir Mr. Argent, the fed stopped by earlier today”

“Hayden, sir”

“Yes, she’s one of our best; she followed your instructions to the letter”

 

Kate wasn’t sure what he was talking about, no doubt some other diabolical scheme of Gerard’s; strange that it involved a fed though, she thought to herself. Corey continued his conversation

 

“Thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to let her know”

“Oh, and there was something else you might want to know. Kate requested her old room here”

 

There was a long pause, before the conversation continued

 

“Earlier this afternoon. She said she’d only be here for a few days. Is there anything you want me to tell her?”

 

More silence

 

“Yes sir, Mr. Argent”

The receiver clicked as the phone call ended; much to the relief of Corey. He swiveled in his chair to face the window, at least this time he didn’t have to meet him in person.

 

Kate silently made her way up the stairs and back to her room at the end of the hall. When being asked to give a message, one typically repeats it back to confirm they have it right. Bryant didn’t repeat anything into his phone. That meant she would probably have some company later this evening.

 

\-------

 

It was now 9PM, and she had been hard at work preparing her room for her “guests” that she knew her father was sending. As if on cue, two large men in billowing trench coats, their faces partially obscured by their fedoras entered the front lobby at the bottom of the stairs. She watched as Bryant nervously pointed towards her room, attempting to give directions to the goons in front of him. They quickly shoved him aside, before taking to the stairs; each one clutched a semi-automatic pistol in their hands.

 

Kate was ready. She pulled the door to her room closed from outside in the hallway; the faint “click” telling her the trap was set. She quickly ducked into the room opposite hers, and took cover behind a large dresser along the wall. The other woman inside the room was terribly confused, but Kate held the barrel of her pearl handled revolver up to her lips and made a quiet “shhhh”.

 

Two sets of footsteps thudded heavily outside in the hallway, before stopping at the door to Kate’s room. She listened as the handle turned. They didn’t even knock, how rude; she thought to herself.

Finding the door locked, one of the hired men used the key that Bryant had provided, while the other stood to the side of the doorway, his gun raised in his right hand ready to shoot whoever came out.

Once the lock turned, the first man flung the door open. He never saw it coming.

Suddenly a deafening blast was heard and the body of the first man crashed through the door of the room Kate was hiding in.

The second man, after recovering from the shock, turned to enter the room. Instead of Kate Argent, he found a chair connected to a series of strings and a double-barrel shotgun, smoke still swirling around its end.

Just as the man was connecting the dots of what happened inside his head, he heard a set of footsteps coming up behind him. Spinning around he found the woman he had been sent for, grinning with a revolver pointed at his head.

 

He tried to bring his pistol up, but Kate was faster; putting two rounds through his thick skull.

She watched contentedly as his body fell to the floor with a dull “thud”.

She blew the smoke off the barrel of her gun, before tucking securely inside the pocket inside her vest.

Kneeling down she pulled out a large wad of cash from the inside coat pockets on each man. “Hmm, Gerard paid them in advance?” she asked rhetorically, before stuffing the money inside her own pocket

 

She had to get out of _Bryant’s_. No doubt the police would be showing up in a few minutes; and Gerard would surely be sending more men once he learned what had gone down.

 

She paused for a minute, trying to think through what just happened. Deep down she knew this was how it was going to end; the ambush at the warehouse had been too perfect. Only Gerard Argent could so paranoid that he would try to off his only daughter.

 

She shook her head, before muttering eight words she never thought she’d hear herself say:

“time to pay a visit to Peter Hale”

 

 

 

 


	5. Let Sleep the Wolves of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo's flashbacks continue. Peter, Derek, and Kate scheme to dethrone Gerard. Brett makes some progress on his latest lead. Liam agrees to join Theo on the next rum-running operation.

Chapter 5: Let Sleep the Wolves of War

 

Theo rolled over on his tiny cot; rubbing his eyes with his left hand, he reached his right over to his nightstand to grab his watch for the time.

 

Four hours. He had only been asleep for four hours.

 

Setting the timepiece back down with a dull thud, he turned on his side; determined to try to get a little more shut-eye. Peter wasn’t joking around when he said the next shipment was an important one.

The tired man closed his eyes and began drifting back off to sleep; the fog of memories rolling in slowly to replace the clouds of fatigue.

 

\-------

Closing his ledger book, Peter Hale returned the leather-bound record to its secure resting place in the top drawer of his desk. Despite the Argent’s shooting the front of his building to hell and back at the start of the month, he had still managed to turn a healthy profit. Derek had just finished replacing the front windows, and they were slowly making inroads with former customers of Gerard (now that his main supply had gone up in flames) as they doggedly nipped at the edges of what was once solidly Argent territory.

 

Things were looking up for the first time in a long while.

 

Peter sighed contentedly and looked out his office window as he reclined in his desk chair, scotch glass in his left hand. He sipped from the small dram of 12-year-old Lagavulin, holding it in his mouth for several minutes while he savored the smoky intensity that characterized his favorite spirit.

 

Nothing could ruin this moment.

 

He heard footsteps echoing down the hall. Too fast to be the long strides of his nephew. _Must be the kid_ , he thought to himself.

“If you need something to do, Derek should be downstairs” Peter called out

No response

Suddenly the footsteps stopped, with still no verbal response from their owner.

Swiveling his chair to face the entrance to his office, he saw a woman leaning in the doorway.

Reaching his hand under his desk he quickly withdrew his .45 caliber single action Colt revolver from its secret holster and took aim at the intruder.

 

Kate returned the favor just as swiftly. The two stayed locked there for a few moments, guns pointed at each other, before Kate Argent finally broke the silence.

 

“I should have guessed you’d be armed to the hilt” Kate scolded herself aloud

 

“What can I say? You don’t bring an Argent to a Hale fight” Peter smugly answered, firming his grip on his pistol

 

“Is this how you treat all of your guests?” Kate asked

 

“Only the ones that have previously tried to kill me” Peter replied

 

“Oh, come now! Can’t we just move on from that little past indiscretion?” Kate pleaded

 

“Move on?! You burned down my house!!” Peter shouted, “While I was still inside of it!” he added

 

“Do you want my help or not?” Kate asked, growing annoyed by the length of their exchange

 

“ _Your help_?!” Peter asked, completely stunned, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right now!” he demanded, quite impatient.

 

“Only one?” Kate teased with a devilish smirk

 

\-------

 

A cold rain fell hard down through the moonless night, creating a pitch-black abyss; the perfect cover.

Theo waited nervously with the other men in the trench, the seconds passing by seemed to take hours.

Just like he had said earlier, reinforcements had begun arriving just after sundown; their numbers swelled the already crowded dwellings where they were entrenched. Looking around at the youthful and unfamiliar faces, he noted that most of these troops were fresh off the boat. _This was likely their first engagement_ , he thought to himself as he observed the fear and anxiety that was seeping off of them.

 

Going down the line, he made sure that each of his soldiers had their gas mask properly equipped. 

There was only one soldier who didn’t have it on. Even without looking, he could’ve guessed.

 

“Corporal, why is your gas mask not firmly secured to your face?” Lt. Raeken asked sternly

 

Cpl. Dunbar fiddled with the straps around the cumbersome mask, “I can barely see when I have it on” he replied, before hastily adding “sir” to the end

 

“If the Kaiser sends along some mustard gas, you won’t be seeing anything at all” Theo reprimanded.

“Here, let me help” Theo moved up behind Patrick, reaching his arms around the front of the other man and bringing the mask up to his face. “See, we just adjust the strap here,” he said while giving a firm tug to one of the clasps.

Corporal Dunbar yelped a little as the straps tugged his hair.

“There, nice and tight” Lieutenant Raeken observed after making sure the device fit as snugly as possible to the other man's face.

The young soldier lingered in the embrace of the dashing officer, longer than he knew he should have, but eventually, the two men pulled away.

 

It was almost time.

 

Theo looked down the line as far as he could, which wasn’t very far in the pitch black and rainy night. He heard a single short whistle blast from behind their position. He doubted the noise could be heard scarcely 50ft away in either direction, easily muffled by the incessant din of the cold rain as it splashed into puddles and carved rivers out of the waterlogged earth below.

 

He patted Cpl. Dunbar on the shoulder, “remember, stick close” he whispered. The young soldier nodded, as he lifted his Springfield rifle from his shoulder, being mindful of the bayonet affixed to the end.

 

Theo, ever the one to lead by example, was the first to take hold of the makeshift ladder and raise himself out over the muddy trench. Looking back down over the anxious men under his command, he motioned them to follow, before adding another whistle of his own.

Slowly but steadily, the line of soldiers formed up side by side for as far as Theo could see. He was on one of the far ends of the formation, no one to his right but his favorite corporal.

 

Stealthily, the line of men proceeded with their midnight advance across the battlefield; staggering through the muddy, barbed wire entwined, mine-laden no-man’s land.

 

 _75 yards_ , Lt. Raeken silently counted down inside his head

 

 _50 yards_ , the advance continued; only the muffled sloshing of boots stumbling through the muddy earth and the sound of the driving rain echoed through the night

 

 _30 yards_ , Theo started to breathe a little easier; they had made it this close without a German sentry noticing them. They just might make it out of this unscathed.

 

*  BOOM *

 

Almost immediately Lt. Raeken cursed himself for his previous thought.

One of the men on the other end of the line, struggling to see through the gas mask, coupled with the pouring rain and muddy ground, had stumbled over a landmine.

 

Almost immediately he heard the enemy sentries shouting in German from in front of him, followed by the TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT of an MG-08 firing blindly into the line of men.

 

He heard the Captain’s voice from further down the line ordering the men to charge forward to continue the assault. Immediately, Theo pulled out his pistol and started to head for the enemy trench, but suddenly felt a body collide with his, arms clinging around his waist, pulling him down to the cold wet earth.

“What the-?” he called out, completely confused

 

He heard another burst of machine gun fire and several screams.

Rolling over onto his back he looked up at the figure that had tackled him to the ground, the face dimly illuminated by the glow from the flares of the enemy troops fading out into the night sky.

 

Theo shoved the other boy off of the top of him, and just barely poked his head up out of the shell crater he had found himself laying in, before quickly ducking back down as a flurry of bullets flew past him.

 

Patrick had just saved his life.

 

“What was that for?!” Theo demanded of his subordinate

 

“They were shooting at us!” Corporal Dunbar said, apologetically

 

“That’s sort of the point” the lieutenant countered, before letting out a sigh. At least they were safe for the moment.

 

“Are you alright?” he finally asked his would-be savior

 

“My leg hurts” the young man lying next to him finally managed.

 

Looking down, under the light of another flare, Theo saw what appeared to be a bullet wound on the other boy’s left leg, closer to the ankle than the knee, blood oozing and staining the torn and muddy cloth of his trousers. _That’s a lot of blood_ the lieutenant thought to himself.

 

Pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, Theo carefully stayed down as he made his way closer to the wound. He wrapped the cloth as tightly as he could around it, in an effort to at least slow the bleeding.

 

“You’re going to be alright” he called out, trying to reassure his injured comrade

 

Cpl. Dunbar winced, but smiled weakly; he trusted Theo with his life.

 

Theo returned to his original position, as it offered much better cover. He didn’t even bother shouting at the other boy for having removed his gas mask; the two just waited for the guns to stop, neither saying anything.

The rain continued its cold, cruel shower upon the men below.

 

“Theo?” Cpl. Dunbar asked finally, after what must have been hours

 

The older boy looked down at the young soldier leaning against him, “I’m cold” he lamented softly

 

The young lieutenant nodded, and quickly removed his overcoat, placing it over the two of them, and pulling the other boy in closely to share the body heat. The other boy leaned into the welcome warmth of his embrace, nuzzling the back of his head into the chest of the man behind him. “thank you” he whispered softly

 

Theo looked down, his heart trembled as he felt the breathing of the other soldier slow a bit. He had lost a lot of blood.

“Stay with me” he spoke behind the other boy’s ear

 

Cpl. Dunbar nodded, “is that an order?” he asked, trying his hardest to muster a smirk

 

“always,” Theo said back, squeezing him just a bit tighter. A tear disobediently rolled its way down Theo’s cheek, “always” he repeated, mostly to himself.

 

\-------

Eventually, the cold, grey light of the dawn stretched its way across the hellscape that had replaced the once lush countryside. White flags raised above each trench indicated the temporary truce, so both sides could collect their dead and wounded from the battlefield.

 

Stretching the stiff muscles in his free arm, Theo waved his hand above the two of them in an effort to flag down a medic, before eventually resorting to his whistle.

Two soldiers with white armbands centered with red crosses hurriedly approached with a stretcher in tow.

 

He could still feel the rise and fall of the other boy’s breathing. Though it was much slower than before.

“He’s lost a lot of blood, help me get him up!” the tired officer barked at the two medics

 

“Yes sir, Lieutenant” the two men replied. Leaning down, they set the makeshift stretcher next to the young man lying in the crater. With one at his feet and the other at his shoulders, they expertly slid the wounded corporal onto the stretcher.

Theo tucked his coat around the other boy as they carried him off, not yet willing to return to his post until he was certain his friend had made it to the field hospital.

 

The medics didn’t even try to stop him. Whether it was the sleepless eyes or unintentional growl he let slip when they had to pry his arm off the wounded soldier; they quickly accepted that the lieutenant was coming along for the ride.

 

Theo followed the men, as they loaded Cpl. Dunbar onto a wagon along with several other wounded troops, before they eventually made their way down the bumpy, improvised mud road, that ran about a mile behind the main Allied line.

Lt. Raeken looked around at the bombed-out cathedral that had been turned into a makeshift military field-hospital.

White flags with red-crosses, draped the crumbling roof of the building to signal its non-combatant status to allied and central pilots alike.

Not that it did much good. The constant shelling of the surrounding countryside had long since reduced the once mesmerizing stained-glass windows to little more than assorted piles of colorful shards. Massive holes in the ceiling from previous hits let light spill through the crowded mess of cots that now replaced the pews.

The cries of the wounded and dying replaced the prayers of the faithful.

The once holy place, now only smelt of death and decay.

 

Theo somberly followed the medics to an open hospital bed, as they lay the young soldier down.

The two medics then immediately left the two of them to go carry on with their work.

 

Theo sat beside the bed, not daring to let sleep comfort him until he knew that Patrick was being seen to, that he was going to make it out. He had _promised_ him, that he would see to it he made it out.

 

He watched as one of the nuns walked quickly past his spot, before gently tugging at her nurse’s garb. Pointing to the wounded corporal he said loudly, “Doctor” “Bullet” “Leg”, she eyed him cautiously before nodding and then scurrying off down some corridor. He really wished he had studied a little French before all this.

 

Not a few minutes later, a weary-looking man in a white coat appeared with the sister clad in her nurse’s habit. Setting his bag of instruments on the bedside, he took a look at the wounded soldier lying in the cot.

Theo watched him carefully, trying to decipher the prognosis.

 

The doctor withdrew a piece of chalk from one of his pockets, before making an “x” just below Patrick’s knee.

Theo’s eye’s widened. No. This wasn’t going to happen.

 

Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was his fried nerves. But at that moment Lieutenant Theodore Raeken didn’t give a damn about anything other than protecting his friend.

 

Rifling through the doctor’s surgical bag, the mustached doctor turned to look at the other uniformed man with equal measure surprise and offense.

 

Grabbing the bone saw, Theo held it up to the doctor’s face and made a back and forth motion while gesturing to Patrick’s leg. “NO!” “NON AMPUTATE,” he said loudly and clearly

Then he grabbed the scalpel and surgical tongs, again gesturing to the wounded area on his comrade, “REMOVE LE BULLET” “SEW LEG. NON CUT!” he shouted again, swinging the scalpel around wildly.

 

The doctor shook his head, more out of fear than of understanding, and snatched his bag before flying out of the makeshift ward.

 

Theo really needed to work on his French.

 

About a week had passed, and the men in Theo’s unit had finally been granted some much-needed leave. Most of the guys took their pay and went into the nearest city to blow it on booze and women. Theo smiled and politely declined as one of the privates asked him for a second time if he wanted to come along with other enlisted men to see the finest women in all the land.

 

He did briefly make it into the city, but only for a quick stop in a small art supply boutique; before he once again returned to the makeshift field-hospital in the bombed-out cathedral.

 

This time, however, he found his friend sitting up on his cot, warm smile and bright blue eyes eagerly awaiting his visit.

 

“How’s my favorite corporal today?” Theo asked, as he pulled up a chair and seated himself beside the cot.

 

Cpl. Dunbar grinned, “Better now that you’re here. I’m starting to think you spend more time checking in on me than you do in the trenches”

 

“I wasn’t going to let them take your leg; not after the hours I had to endure of you going on about how much you loved riding your horses back home” he replied, feigning annoyance at how often the other boy spoke about the subject.

 

Patrick looked down for a second, while silently mouthing a “sorry”

 

“Don’t apologize” Theo said, “just remember that when all this is over with, I’ll be holding you to your promise to take me out riding one day, alright?” he added

 

The other boy looked up, wide smile and eyes a bright beaming blue, “deal!” he replied excitedly

 

Theo smiled, before turning his head behind him as he heard some commotion. The doctor he had his prior altercation with was gesticulating towards them with his hands and whispering in muffled French to one of the sisters in her nurse’s habit.

 

Theo kept looking on, trying in vain to make out what they were talking about.

 

“He doesn’t like you being here” Patrick interrupted Theo’s focus.

 

He spun around in his chair and gave a raised eyebrow, “how do you know that?” he asked, puzzled

 

“I know French” Cpl. Dunbar grinned with pride

 

“I’m impressed” Lt. Raeken replied, “wish I’d known that earlier” he added

 

Patrick continued, “the doctor thinks that you’re possessed by some kind of demon”

 

“Oh,” Theo admitted. He could see how he might have left that impression, given that their first interaction had involved the young lieutenant screaming at him in a foreign language and swinging a razor-sharp scalpel around in his face.

 

“The nuns say you’re my guardian angel” Patrick added, reaching over to give a light squeeze to Theo’s hand

 

At that, the other boy perked up; “I guess I have to be a bit of both to keep you safe” he joked.

Theo pulled his hand from the other boy’s grasp awkwardly.

 

“I – uh, I brought you something,” he said after clearing his throat. Reaching into his satchel he withdrew a small paper bag from the art shop he had visited the other day.

 

Cpl. Dunbar carefully inspected the contents of the bag, a set of fine drawing pencils, and another set of impossibly vibrant colored pencils. “These . . .  these are. . .” he tried his best to choke back a squeal of excitement

 

“These are perfect because you lost your other set somewhere in a mud-covered shell hole?” Theo asked, raising one eyebrow, but also twisting one edge of his lips up in a smile at how happy the boy before him was at the sight of his gift.

 

“Thanks, Theo,” Patrick said, before hastily adding “sir” to the end

 

The boy next to him just shook his head and smiled, “don’t mention it”.

 

Here, in this moment, it was as if the entire world around them didn’t exist. The sunbeams pouring through the hole laden roof seemed to envelop the two of them. Their unspoken affection completely unnoticed by the tempest of death outside. For in this small moment they could finally breathe, safe within in the eye of the storm. The hurricane of war raged around them, briefly seeking its tonne of flesh somewhere else.

 

“I spoke to the Captain” Theo finally said, breaking the silence

 

Cpl. Dunbar looked up at his friend, cocking his head to the side in intrigue, “Oh?” he hummed

 

“Filled out the recommendation this morning, for your medal that is” Lt. Raeken replied

 

“I get a medal?” Patrick asked, somewhat confused

 

“Technically you were wounded by the enemy in the line of duty” Theo explained, “though I may have left out the part where you tackled me and we both fell into a hole” he added with knowing smile

 

“but that was the best part!” Patrick teased with a laugh

 

Theo shook his head. Pushing his chair back, he stood up to make his exit. “Just focus on getting better” he ordered with a pat on the shoulder, to the man in the cot in front of him.

 

As the young officer turned to take his leave, Patrick Dunbar reached out and grabbed his sleeve. “Wait,” he said

 

Theo turned to look at his friend, waiting for him to continue.

 

The young soldier withdrew two wax envelopes with papers tucked inside each one and handed them to Theo.

 

Theo looked at them in his hand, terrified to ask what he internally suspected.

 

“In case I . . .” Patrick started

 

“Don’t” Theo cut him off

 

“In case I’m not so lucky next time” Patrick finished

 

Theo grasped the envelopes tightly, each one had a single name written on the outside in the other boy’s handwriting. “Liam” on the first, and on the other “Theo”. He started to choke up.

 

“Just promise me you’ll give that to my little brother if something happens. Please” he pleaded, his bright blue eyes taking on an almost Caribbean shade of blue as the beams of sunlight spilled across them, brought out even more so by the contrast from the puffy redness beneath.

 

Theo nodded, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I promise”

He paused.

“I also promise I won’t have to” he swore as he tucked the two envelopes into the inner pocket of his overcoat.

 

Then the light began fading to black, Theo felt his body shake in a violent motion. Sitting up on his bed he sucked in a deep gasp of breath and felt his heart palpitate in his chest as if he were coming back from the dead. He felt the sweat running cold all down his skin. Reaching over on top of his nightstand he felt for the two wax envelopes.

 

He was on his boat.

 

He was just dreaming.

 

Throwing his feet over the side of the bunk, he looked over at his watch: two more hours had passed.

 _Don’t think I can take any more sleep_ he thought to himself.

 

Reaching under the nightstand he popped a handful of painkillers, before washing them down with a swig of bourbon from the bottle he kept next to the pill container.

 

Time to check-in with Peter Hale.

 

\-------

 

 

“Stay here” Derek Hale ordered the young man sitting behind the bar.

 

They both heard the commotion coming from the second floor of the building. Liam obediently stayed in his position, while the older man headed for the stairs to investigate.

 

Bursting into his uncle’s office, Derek found Peter sitting behind his desk in mid-sentence with . . . Kate Argent?

 

“Why isn’t she dead yet?” Derek asked, completely bewildered at the company his uncle had decided to entertain.

 

“Nice to see you again too, sweetheart” Kate chuckled sarcastically from her position on the couch across from Peter’s desk.

 

“Our unfortunate acquaintance has come bearing a most interesting ‘business proposal’ my dear nephew” Peter began, taking another sip from his scotch glass.

 

Derek glared at the woman on the couch suspiciously, “what does she want?” he grunted

 

“It would seem that Gerard’s homicidal paranoia also extends to his immediate family” Peter continued

 

“And we care about that, why?” Derek asked monotone, not removing Kate from his line of sight

 

“I’m right here you know” she protested at Derek’s insensitivity

 

“Fully aware” he retorted

 

“Would you two _please_ try to refrain from clawing at each other’s throats for thirty-seconds?”  Peter pleaded from behind his desk

 

Derek folded his arms across his chest and let out a sigh, “30 seconds” he huffed

 

“Thank you.” Peter Hale said in a slightly condescending tone. “Now, after she burgled her way into my office; our recently disinherited potential ally was telling me some _wonderful_ news about Miami’s reigning criminal patriarch”

 

“Not only is his main liquor cache a smoldering ash pile, no thanks to what I imagine to be your fine handiwork . . .” she trailed off to glare at the two men around her

 

Derek shrugged his shoulders, accompanying the gesture with an innocent grin

 

“he’s got problems with the feds” Kate Argent finished

 

“I thought you paid them off?” Derek asked, still very much suspicious of their newfound would-be ally.

 

“We do” Kate replied with a knowing smile, “but it seems like this one fed just isn’t getting the message. Keeps poking around on a hit my brother carried out a little while back. Seems to think he can tie the murders back to Gerard”

 

“Never thought I’d be rooting for the prohis. The old man isn’t worried about this?” Derek asked

 

“No reason to. There isn’t a jury anywhere this side of the Mississippi that Gerard couldn’t line the pockets of to ensure his freedom” Peter pointed out

 

“It’s about making an example, showing what happens when people don’t bow to his whims” Kate continued, “but it provides us with the perfect opening”

 

“For?” Derek asked, trying to follow this line of logic

 

“Vengeance” Kate and Peter both said in eerie unison.

\-------

 

Agent Talbot made his way through the grand entrance, and into the lobby of the hotel Cortez. He held his hat in his right hand, his suit jacket already draped over the forearm of the same side; he slowly walked up to the front desk and grabbed the attention of the hotel clerk that had checked them in a few days prior.

 

“Excuse me, I’m Special Agent Talbot from room-” Brett started before being cut off

 

“Room 3-06, right? How may help you?” the man in the red vest behind the hotel counter asked as he looked up from his room registry

 

“When my partner and I checked in the other day, you recommended a certain establishment specializing in crab? I was hoping maybe you could provide me with the address?” Agent Talbot inquired

 

The clerk’s eyes lit up, he always got excited when a guest was willing to entertain his advice, “Why certainly! Here, give me just a minute to get that for you sir” he replied eagerly, while he hurriedly scribbled directions onto a piece of hotel stationery. The clerk then took the piece of paper and handed it to the agent waiting across from him.

 

Brett looked down at the barely legible address on the gold bordered white piece of stationery that featured the logo of the Hotel Cortez at the top.

“Thank you,” Brett said with a slight nod of appreciation

 

“Trust me when I say that they’re the best in all of the city, you won’t regret it!” the clerk behind the counter added, trying to convince the dashing agent.

 

Brett smiled graciously and began to make his way up the stairs towards his shared room.

 

He didn’t have the heart to tell the attendant that he was allergic to shellfish.

 

 

\-------

 

Theo rushed into _the Beacon_ to see Liam sitting quietly behind the bar.

“Peter or Derek around?” he asked

 

“They’re both upst-” Liam started before Theo nodded and quickly took off.

 

Walking through the door to Peter’s office, Theo was taken aback at the site of Kate Argent seated on the couch while scheming away with the other two men.

 

“Why isn’t she dead yet?” he asked turning to Peter Hale

 

“I said the exact same thing” Derek pointed out

 

“Aww, I was wondering how long it would take your rabid dog of a capo to show up” Kate jeered from across the room

 

“Play nice you two” Peter ordered from his desk chair, “Theo, Kate here was just finishing up telling us all about the latest woes brewing in the House of Argent” he added

 

“the old man finally bite it?” Theo asked hopefully, while also raising an eyebrow

 

“Unfortunately not” Derek replied

“Seems Gerard is about to catch himself a fed” Peter said with a grin

 

“and that’s good for us because . . . .?” Theo trailed off

 

“Because instead of trying to rebuild his production, he’s spending time and resources somewhere else. Instead of worrying about his competition, he’s trying to off his own inner circle” Peter explained

 

“he’s distracted,” Derek said

 

“Which gives _us_ ” Kate paused on the word, “an opportunity” she finished

 

Theo could see what they were outlining. There wasn’t a soul in that room that wanted to see Gerard Argent safe and secure in a federal prison.

 

“When my father feels threatened; he starts viewing his allies as enemies” Kate added, “he doesn’t realize that the tighter he clings to his power, the more the city slips through his fingers”

 

“With the right amount of luck, he’ll make a mistake even _he_ can’t come back from” Peter added with uncharacteristic optimism, “which is when we’ll make our strike”

 

Theo looked around the room at the co-conspirators, his vengeful hatred for what Gerard had done to his family coursed through his veins like a river of fire.

Something dark briefly flashed in his eyes; “ _sic semper tyrannis_ ” he said with a smirk twisted enough for the devil himself.

 

\-------

The meeting continued on for a few minutes longer before Kate Argent took her leave. It was less of an alliance, and more of an uneasy truce; but Peter seemed to think it was worth the risk.

 

“Do you trust her?” his nephew asked

 

Looking almost offended at the very notion Peter scowled, “I’m not _that_ insane” he protested

“I trust that Gerard doesn’t trust her” he added, eliciting nods from the other two men in the room.

 

“If helping to keep Kate Argent alive frustrates Gerard’s plans, then I’m all for it,” Derek said

 

“I’m glad you’re able to see the benefit in tweaking the lion’s tail, my dear nephew” Peter responded with approval

 

“Theo, is the boat ready for the appointed rendezvous?” Peter Hale asked the slightly more rested man leaning against the doorframe

 

“Ready as she’ll ever be” Theo replied while checking the time on the watch he withdrew from his inner breast pocket.

 

“Excellent. Also, take the kid with you on this one” Peter said

 

Theo looked over at the older man, a puzzled expression spread across his face. He always made the runs solo; did Peter not trust him?

 

“Our new _friend_ was kind enough to mention the uptick in Coast Guard patrols in the harbor, and also Gerard’s smugglers-for-hire are increasingly overlapping along most of our routes” Peter began to explain

“You said the kid’s good with a gun, right?”

 

“he can hold his own I think” Theo replied

 

“Perfect, he’s your back-up then” Peter concluded, “Now, get the hell out of my office and go collect my booze” he ordered.

 

Theo turned on his heel and headed down the stairs.

 

As he walked past the bar, he saw Liam pouting on a bar stool. Suit jacket strewn across the back of the seat, the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up just below the elbow. Clearly, he was bored out of his mind.

 

“How’s the leg?” Theo asked as he walked up to the bar

 

Liam moved his hand over the dressed wound, the surrounding muscles were stiff, but he _was_ healing. “Better now that you’re here” he replied, excited to see his savior from the prior evening’s adventure.

 

Theo paused for a moment, an uneasy sense of déjà vu coming over him, before quickly dissipating as he shook it off.

 

Liam watched as Theo made his way closer to the bar, momentarily getting lost in the faint emerald glow the dim light from the gas lamps along the wall of bar managed to bring out in the other boy’s eyes.

                                                                                                            

“You up for a ride on the boat?” Theo asked, abruptly changing the subject

 

“I uh, think so?” Liam replied. It wasn’t quite what he expected Theo would say next, but anything was better than sitting in the basement of _the Beacon_ for even a minute longer.

 

“Well, it’s your lucky night then!” Theo grinned, as he gestured towards the exit.

 

Liam hastily collected his suit jacket and followed after Theo.

 

This was going to be quite the boat ride.

 

\-------


End file.
